Dragon Age: Revelations
by aadpeters23
Summary: Thedas is ruled by war and rebellion. Brother kills brother, fathers bury their young, while the world is being torn asunder. How did it come to this? How did it begin? How can we stop it? Our Hope is hidden in our past while our salvation rests in the hands of our lost Champions. Can they save our world or will they end it? Darkness is coming shall you stand for it or against it?
1. The Grey Brothers

**PERSONAL NOTES**: This will be my second upload and once again I find myself very nervous and fearful of what others will say about my writing. But for my joy of writing, I will upload it and pray that you will enjoy my story. I have always enjoyed the Dragon Age series and I am dying to play **Dragon Age: Inquisition.**

I love the art and creativity that went into such a great work and I would love nothing more than to add my own personal ideas to such a great tale.

So everyone, take a seat grab a drink and enjoy the story.

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**Dragon Age: Revelations**

**By: aadpeters23**

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**Chapter 1: The Gray Brothers**

The darkness was all around her.

A beautiful maiden had been taken from the comforts of her bed and was trapped in her new world.

In this world, everything was hidden by shadow and like the princess of tales she waited for her rescuer.

There were many stories like that, but the more the maiden thought of being a helpless princess the more she giggled.

No one would come for her. She was locked away, in a secret world that no one knew of the maiden.

'What a strange world' the lonely maiden told herself as she struggled to adjust her eyes to see better. It was too difficult, however, the night was too black and the darkness seemed endless.

Many feared the darkness because it was a mystery to them.

It was an overwhelming presence that brought both fear and chaos upon whomever lived in it.

Many have gone mad in such a place, but the maiden remained strong as she remained faithful and patient.

She carefully knelt in a pile of straw that was emanating a foul smell and was crisp to the touch.

Her hands folded together and her voice began to sing a beautiful verse that came from an ancient text.

"Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter," Her singing was enchanting and mysterious.

"Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions who seek justice" her words echoed off the walls.

"Blessed are the righteous, a light that lingers in the shadows beyond " her voice softens as she tilted her head forward and kissed the knuckles of her thumbs.

"In their blood the Maker's will is written" for a moment the maiden had stopped singing and raised her head, with her eyes closed, and began to listen.

The first sound she heard was a soft *THUMP* followed by a a low *CREAK*

'There must be a strong wind' The maiden thought to herself when she suddenly heard another *THUMP* and *CREAK*

'What is that sound?' She asked herself as she opened her eyes and gazed at her prison door. A light was shining under the door and a shadow was dancing in that light. A smile crept across the maiden's lips as she watched the source of the sound pace in front of her prison door.

The *THUMP* was that person's feet pounding against the ground and the *CREAK* was the man's metal shoes grinding against stone.

Could this man be wearing heavy armor?

The maiden was curious as to whether this man, or woman, was a Templar or perhaps it was a loyal knight in-service to a great lord.

The sound wasn't enough to answer her questions.

However, the maiden's eyes revealed that the creature outside was a man who was breathing very heavily, the weight of the armor might be too great for him to bear.

A few more minutes passed and the maiden was able to make out another familiar sound.

The sound was like a bell echoing from a bell tower.

'Keys' she thought as she listened to another jingle.

This was an excellent sounds to hear.

The guard is tired and very distracted.

The keys are close and they are within reach.

Escape was very close and it could be taken but she will have but once chance to take her freedom.

However, anything could happen and she may yet fail to escape. If this were to come to pass the maiden would simply need to find another way to escape.

The infamous **Bard's of Orlais **could not be imprisoned so easily. With the right tool any bard could find a way to play _the game. _

However, new games required new rules and new skills and the only skill the bard had left were her prayers and her patience.

Sooner or later someone would open the door to her cell and when that happened that's when she would strike.

However, the time had come to a standstill when she finally understood that the man with the keys would not unlock her door.

Both me, would pass in front of her door or they would simply stand at attention until they grew bored and began a playful game.

Both men would think of a word and both would have to guess what the other was thinking. It was a very boring game, but it had past the time rather quickly and it had amused the young maiden.

But suddenly another loud *THUMP* was heard and grew louder and louder as it neared the cell.

Like the desert rabbits of Antiva the bard sprung to her feet and carefully ventured to a dark corner in her cell, while the muffled sounds grew louder until they were standing right outside her door.

She had no idea how many were out there or what she may be facing.

Doubt began to settle in when she began to rethink her plan of escape.

If she acted too soon she would just get herself killed.

However, if she acted to slow she would simply kill herself.

This was a very dangerous game and it was a game the bard knew too well.

Caution was a friend to many and a tool not to be take likely. The bard quickly rethought her plan and decided the best course of action was to remain the helpless prisoner, but only until she found her opening.

She once again knelt in the straw and remained the silent church mouse.

The door to the cell was unlocked and was pushed open. A flickering light filled the maiden's cell and the bard could only watch as five men enter the room, each holding a torch in one hand and a spear in the other.

Each was wearing heavy plated armor and each man matched the other in, size, stench, and color.

The suits of armor were as black as dwarves coal, but each shined as if they were forged from polished opal. The bard took note of the large white suns engraved on the breast plates and the silver eyes engraved into the center of the white sun.

The bard could feel the glares of each man as they looked down upon her, through their metal visors.

The bard quickly ignored the men as she watched a tall, short haired, woman steps into her cell. The torch light offered the bard a great deal of sight and it showed her that the tall woman was very beautiful; her face was smooth and slightly pale.

'A child who loves to wear her helmet' the bard told herself as she looked deep into the woman's eyes, a pair of hazelnut gems, that were as hard as iron.

No emotion appeared in her eyes, nor on her lovely face.

A word was spoken and the bard found herself being dragged to her feet by two of the armed guards and then the bard was forced to stand before the beautiful woman with short charcoal hair.

"Speak your name" her voice revealed that she was Nevarran and that she was more than just a pretty face, this woman was a battle harden warrior.

'My name?' the bard was confused.

Did they not know who she was?

"I would know your name first and the reason for my imprisonment" the bard's voice lashed out like a whip but she remained motionless and her face betrayed no emotion.

"Speak your name" the Nevarran's tone grew stern and hard when she repeated herself.

For a brief moment the bard had thought to keep her mouth closed and wait for an answer but the touch of cold steel caught the bard off guard, she never saw the knife being drawn.

"I will not ask again. Speak your name, before you lose the ability to say it again" a smile appeared on the bard's face as a sense of joy washed over her.

"You already know who I am, sister" the bard suddenly felt the fool and slightly joyful.

Why did she not see it sooner, the symbol on engraved on the breastplate of each guard resembles the mark of the Chantry, the only notable difference was the giant silver eye.

"Are you Sister Lelieana of Ferelden's Chantry?" Her voice became softer but still retained its ferocity.

"Indeed, I was" Lelieana could see her captor was becoming slightly annoyed. She was very greedy for answers and Lelieana could see that she was in no mood for jesting.

'Tread carefully, let's try and play their game for a turn' the red hair bard pulled herself free of the men holding her and brushed off the dust that had clung to her gown.

"Until I left the Chantry to pursue a trial of great importance" Lelieana watched the iron eye woman sheath her curved knife and place both of her hands behind her back.

'Such a good soldier' Lelieana told herself.

"Would that have been the trial of the Blight?" the sound of the Nevarran's voice had begun to annoy Lelieana along with her pointless quest for direct answers.

"Yes, I sadly left all my duties as a sister behind me to aid others during the Fifth Blight" Lelieana's answer got her a dirty look from her new friends.

"Excellent take her to the 'room' and await further orders" the Nevarran quickly turned on her heels and stormed out of the tiny cell and vanished from Lelieana's sight.

Once again Lelieana was impressed by the woman's grace. The singer had never seen anyone move so well in such thick armour, or in suck ugly boots.

"Get moving" Lelieana was suddenly shoved out of the door by two of her guards, and like well trained dogs, Lelieana was surrendered by the five men.

Each guard stood at a corner, surrounding the bard and didn't leave her a chance to look for an escape.

The walk was very long and seemed very tidies to Lelieana.

If anyone wanted to torture her for information or kill her they could have simply finished her off in the dark cell, but the bard began to count her lucky stars for how much they were worth.

This game was starting to become very dangerous.

Someone wanted to keep her alive. Someone wanted her secret's and Leliana knew far to many people who wanted to know what she knew.

Soon Lelieana was lead to another door, thicker and stronger than her cell door, and when it opened she felt her heart skip a beat.

It was another cell, but this one had a single ray of light, shining from the ceiling, and it was shining down onto a chiseled stone chair stained with blood.

"Take your seat and wait" one of the guards had pushed Lelieana into the tiny little room and quickly slammed the door behind her.

The bard used her ears to see again and could hear the silent click on a series of locks snap and crack behind the door.

Lelieana could feel her heart beat within her chest.

All of these tiny rooms made Lelieana recall a very vivid memory and it was a very painful memory, that made her heart wrench and twist from fear.

"No" Leliana heard herself moan the word as she felt herself being drawn to the dark corners of the room. Lelieana could feel her heart beating hard and faster in her chest. Her breathing was getting very heavy and the bard could not bring herself to pray to her loving god.

Minutes had passed before Lelieana was able to regain her composure and walk about the room, studying every crack and stain that marked the rooms walls and floors.

It was a small room, but it was not as small as her cell, it was large enough to house any number of torture devices or people but to the bard delight neither device nor people were around. The room was empty of everything except for a solid stone chair.

The bard studied the chair for a moment and took note of the blood that had stained on the chair. '

Many men and women had been put in this chair' Lelieana thought to herself as she began to wonder how many had the privilege of sitting in that chair and how many had the privilege of leavening the room.

It had only been minutes before Lelieana heard footsteps coming from beyond the door.

She had to act fast.

Like the shadows of Orleai, Lelieana vanished behind the stone chair and quickly faded into the darkness and in that darkness Lelieana waited, but something felt odd.

A door had suddenly opened up behind Lelieana.

A lifetime of training spurred Lelieana to fight, but when she came face to face with the iron eye woman again the bard felt a sense of stillness wash over her and her instinct to kill.

The strange woman simply stood in the doorway, hands behind her back, bearing neither sword nor dagger, both remained sheathed and untouched. Leleiana would have asked why she came unarmed, but the bard knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth, again.

"Bards… you are all so predictable" the iron eye woman stepped into the dark room and shoved the door closed, and in the blink of an eye Leleiana heard a dozen locks snap and crack along the edge of the door.

"Take a seat sister Lelieana we have much to discuss, " she used her right hand to gesture Lelieana into the stone seat, but the bard refused her captures offer and choose to remain standing.

"I can understand your mistrust sister. If I were in your shoes I would remain defiant until the bitter end, but I swear to the Maker above that I am not here to hurt you" Lelieana watched the woman gesture to the chair once more but again Lelieana remained standing.

"Who are you? I can see you are from the Chantry and you made it obvious that you want something from me" Lelieana knew this part of the game far too well; this is how most games end.

The game starts with a pawn.

The pawn leads you around and around until you are corned.

Once cornered you begin to panic and search for an opening.

You find that opening and once you exploit it you find yourself trapped by the queen.

This woman was the queen and she will do everything she can to win the game.

The woman lowered her hand, acting defeated, and then looked the bard dead in the eye.

"I am Cassandra Pentaghast a Seeker of the Chantry. I extend my apologies to you sister Lelieana it was never my intention to have you hurt or kidnapped" Lelieana watched Cassandra revile her left hand a noticed a very thick book clutched in between her fingers.

"But, for the good of the realm it had to be done" Cassandra's voice still retained a lot of tension but Lelieana could hear the Nevarran buried beneath it.

"You call yourself a Seeker of the Chantry. Pray tell me, what are you seeking Lady Cassandra" Lelieana suddenly found herself taking a seat in the stone chair, sitting like any proper lady would, one leg folded over the other.

"I seek a champion among men, a nation's hero, and a personal friend of yours" only one name crossed Lelieana's mind when Cassandra finished speaking.

The man Cassandra spoke of was so much more than a champion or a hero, he was a legend, and this woman was not the only one seeking him.

"You speak of the Warden, the Hero of the Fereldin. May I ask why you seek this man?" Lelieana watched a cold, iron, look appear in Cassandra's eyes as she gazed back at Lelieana.

Cassandra turned her back on the red hair woman and opened the book in her left hand and began to read a page from the book's contents, or acted as if she were.

"You may not" her response was both blunt and very obvious.

"Then I refuse to speak of him any further" Lelieana returned Cassandra blunt question with one of her own.

"Why is that" ferocity and anger flared in Nevarran's voice as she tore herself away from the book and glared at Lelieana.

"Because you refuse to speak, an answer for an answer that is how the game is played" Lelieana slowly leaned backward until her back was pressing against the chair.

"So you think sister but this is not your precise Orlai" she clapped the book shut and approached the bard.

"The moment I brought you here, into my room, the rules changed" a strange look appeared in Cassandra's eyes as she looked down upon Lelieana. The child of Orlai felt as if she were being looked down upon a noble from her home land, and Cassandra was wearing her mask very well.

"It was to my understanding Lelieana that you are looking for someone as well, an old mentor some would call her" Lelieana's skin prickled as Seeker continued to speak.

"As it so happens my Order has knowledge of that traitors where about's, and I may be willing to part with that information" Lelieana felt the urge to kill once again as she pictured her, but the urge to kill suddenly died.

'She is playing you' Leleiana told herself as she began to understand Cassandra a little bit better.

She was indeed a Seeker and she would do anything to find what she seeks, and the bard doubted Cassandra cared for the casualties.

"Marjolaine is not a common traitor; she stole and sold military secrets to Orlais enemies. I can't imagine the Empress would be too pleased to find her dead at the hands of a sister" Lelieana said as she watched Cassandra squeeze the book in her hand.

"The Empress is bound by honor to have Marjolaine arrested and put on trial for her crimes. The world would need to see her for her sins and crime" Lelieana said as she watched

"The Empress can go fuck her honor!" Cassandra shouted, making it very clear that she prepared to do whatever it took to get what she wanted.

"Do we have a deal Sister Lelieana? For your cooperation, I will give you what you want and in return you give me what I want. It's not the answer you were expecting, but it is better than nothing" the options were weighed in bards mind while one question continued to repeat itself.

'Why?' Lelieana asked herself.

'He is a wanted criminal and hero. Many wish him dead while others demand his protection' Lelieana answered her own question as began to feel Cassandra's patience growing thin.

'What will happen if I help this woman?'Lelieana asked herself, praying her judgment was sound on this matter.

"We have a deal Seeker. What would you like to know about the Warden?" Lelieana asked as she prepared herself.

However, Cassandra's first question had surprised the bard.

"Who is the Hero of Ferelden?" The question was simple enough but at the same time it would be difficult to answer.

"He is a great deal of many things Seeker. Would you mind being more specific?" Lelieana asked while she adjusted herself in the stony seat, trying to find a more comfortable position to sit in.

"No, I want to know everything. Who was the warden, who did he fight for, who did he believe in, what was his purpose" Cassandra's began to passé in front of the chair, she was either impatient or her feet were hurting her.

"You are asking a great deal of me Seeker. Even I most admit I don't know everything about the Warden" Lelieana was not trying to annoy the Seeker; she only wanted to speak the truth.

"I understand that, but it was to my knowledge that you were there with him from the very beginning, long before he was a Warden or a hero. Just tell me what you know" Cassandra spoke with a noble's authority.

"Do you fear I may sing you a song of lies?" Lelieana would tell the truth, of course, but she had to be sure that Cassandra would be willing to accept the story.

Even the most fabled parts.

"I will decide the facts from lies sister" and that was enough for Lelieana to begin her story. The bard cleared her throat and placed her hands upon her lap.

"Then, if you wish to know everything, then I suggest you pull up a chair sister, because you are going to need to know the story… the whole story" a small smile appeared on the bards lovely thin lips.

"It began three years ago…

_Ferelden was plunged into chaos by the rumors of an approaching Blight. Many were terrified, and fear had spread like wildfire throughout the country, as whole Darkspawn hordes poured from the wilds. It didn't take long for Ferelden's king, the gallant King Cailan, to call his banners to war._

_The war began in the far south and it began on the 'Great Wall of Ostagar' and that is where our story begins. In the midst of blood and death, a common wizard appears with the dawn of a new day upon him, unaware of the great destiny that will soon befall him..._

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"So you think it's true, is this really a blight or just another raid?" An old man urged his horse faster to keep up with the wagon rolling beside him.

"Did you hear me, you brat? Do you know or not?" The red-bearded man, guiding the wagon, glared at the old man and had to resist the urge to extend his boot and kick the old fool off his horse.

"You stop asking! I know not of what goes on in the south" his voice was thick with a foreign accent, his skin tan and black from years in the open sun, and the bells tied in his beard jingled with each bump his wagon crossed.

"Well, why don't you? Aren't you a bounty hunter, don't bounty hunters bring deserters back to the war when they run away?" The old fool stood on his last straw with the foreign man.

"You are fools. I am not 'Bounty Hunter' I am De'vi. I recruit Wardens!" The foreign man's voice boomed like thunder and his bells jingled when he raised his voice.

"A Warden?" The old man's horse began to slow down as his mind began to reflect on what, or who, a 'Warden' could be. A moment of peace fell upon the wagon rider as he began to move farther and farther ahead, urging his horse faster, but the old man had returned his old sword beating against his horse's side as he rode.

"Do you mean a Grey Warden? Is that what this company is? Are all of you the Grey Wardens of legend" the old man turned his head as his old faded eyes gazed upon the massive column of men, women, horses, and wagons.

"By Andraste's skirt this is a blight and you folks are here to save us" the old man smiled at the bounty hunter, his yellow teeth sending a disgusting chill down the foreigners back.

"Yes you oaf, now go away" a crack of the reigns and the horse began to walk faster, almost into a gallop, but the wagon hit a large rock and wagon shuck as if a volcano had erupted just below it. Chains rattled and began to sing in the steel cage as the wagon hit a second rock and began to jingle once more.

"Easy you slow mouth bastard, I don't feel like rolling down a hill and dying because of you!" The deep voice of a broad shoulder man forced the hunter to look over his shoulder and down at his prisoner.

"Be silent!" The foreigner slammed his large burly fist against the iron bar to silence the man who spoke, but out of five people chained in his iron wagon he had no idea who had insulted him.

Most men do not care what chained prisoners have to say.

On the outside men were free, they were free to judge, they were free stare, and free to lash at chained men with weapons and insults. It is a different world on the inside of a cage however, chained men had no freedom.

Men in chains were guilty of all things, guilty men had to keep their eyes down or up to avoid the eye of another, and guilty men were not allowed to defend themselves when they are beaten.

Life in a cage is no way for a man to live, unless he was guilty, but all five men were guilty of one crime of sorts.

"Damn sand bathing bastard" the broad shoulder man mumbled as his face twisted into a horrible glare but the hunter didn't even bother to give any of the men in his cage a second glance.

That made the man angry, he loved it when people looked at him, the lack of a nose and an eye churned most men's stomach and made them sick.

He loved that part, the look of disgust and fear are all he had left since being caught.

"Fucker" the one eye man mumbled as he felt something hard strike his leg.

"Would you shut up lack wit, you're the bloody reason why we're not being fed or watered!" A frail, skinny man, with a weak soothing voice yelled as he reached out to kick the larger man again.

"Don't touch me knife-ears and remember who you are talking to! This isn't your brothel, this is a cage, and as soon as I get out of this cage I am going to ring your skinny little neck" the frail man's ears redden in anger and his dark grey eyes were filled with the furry.

The elf would have loved nothing more than to reach out with his hidden knife and jab it in the cell-mates one remaining eye but that's if he could reach his hidden dagger.

'One quick slash and I'll be done with the ugly bastard' but the elf was not stupid enough to waste his energy on a pointless struggle and lose his only weapon.

"Just be silent and let us rest" the elf turned his gaze away from the one eye man and looked over his shoulder, through his black hair, and began to gaze down at the many men and women that were walking and riding beside the cage, behind the cage, and in front of the cage.

"Nine hells" the elf said aloud.

There were so many people; hundreds of former sell-swords, hedge-knights, and men-at-arms each marching into battle. The sight made the elves heart fill with envy, never in his life did the elf see such a cluster of races gathered in one travelling caravan.

"They really are the Grey Warden's of legend" laughter burst out of the one eye man's mouth while a annoying came out of the hole where his nose used to be.

The brothel elf began restrain himself once again and ignore his cellmates childish humor.

"You call these men legends, HA!" His voice boomed again spittle spreading from his mouth and snot from the hole in his nose.

"They are sell-swords like me, they came here for gold and silver and none of them are your fucking Grey Wardens!" Tension rose again as the sell-sword continued to chuckle and mock the elf, but before the brothel boy could do anything another man spoke up and raised his voice.

"I think we might need another cage mister hunter" a handsome young man, with black stubble raised his voice to catch the attention of the wagon rider.

"It would seem these two want some bloody privacy. Could you be a dear and separate us from them?" The handsome youth jabbed his left elbow into the sell-swords ribs, forcing a painful grunt from the gaps in the man's teeth. The elf had a wicked smile appear on his face and was about to laugh until he received an elbow to his ribs.

"Don't even think about it elf boy," the thick raspy voice of a woman spoke over the elf's grunt "if either of you say one thing I will drive my boot so far up your arse's that you two will be tasting nug dung for a year" the furry and whip of the woman's voice frighten the likes of both elf and man so much that the wagon fell into a deaf silence.

For a half a heartbeat, no one spoke, but the dwarf knew that someone would talk soon enough and ruin her moment of silence and peace.

Everyone in the wagon knew this woman was different from the others.

The most obvious being she was a woman and not a man, but the men in the wagon, noticed that she had no chains about her ankles or wrists; she was also wearing normal clothing instead of pieces of armor or rags.

She was old, middle age, and had a large black tattoo engraved on her face.

It would seem many men feared her, even among her own kind, but stupidity was strong in the one-eye-man.

"Don't touch me bitch or I will strangle you too!" it was an empty threat.

The dwarf woman ignored the one eye man and fixed her gaze on the younger man sitting beside him.

The dwarf could see beyond deceit and tricks and knew that he was no ordinary man, just like the brothel boy.

"So how did they catch you?" The dwarf woman watched the young man eyebrows rise above in interest and joy but he suddenly gave the dwarf a puzzled look.

"With an iron grip and chains" his voice cracked with laughter as he jingled the chains on his wrists.

Anger flashed across the woman's face, but before she could rise to strike her cell mate the wagon hit a bump and the dwarf stumbled back and struck her head against the bars.

Laughter erupted within the cage as everyone watched the tattoo faced woman rub the back of her skull.

"Shut up you lot!" The jailor slammed his fist against the iron bars and gazed down at the woman.

"Are you injured?" The elf's concern for the woman was true and genuine, but the dwarf shuck the elf off her arm and glared at all the men in the iron cage, smiles were wiped clean off each their faces.

"Sorry Missy I was just trying to lighten up the mood, but I was being serious. It was an iron grip that caught me" the young man explained as he rolled up his left sleeve, up to his faded leather couter, and revealed his bruised wrist.

"That most have been a nasty spill you took, boy" fluid dripped from the hole on his face as he smiled and chuckled at his cellmate's pain, but the whole face man paid no attention to his ugly companion.

"You see I was once a famous purse cutter in the capital. I was known in Denerim as Daveth Red Hands, because I never got caught red-handed" a wicked smiled appeared on his face while the dwarf rolled her eyes.

"But that all changed a month ago when I was prowling the Alienage, searching for prey to hunt" Daveth began to change his voice to add character to his story.

"That's when I found them. Five men, standing neatly in a row, waiting for me to relieve them of all their coins" the elf was suddenly leaning forward; he appeared to be on the edge of his seat.

"Who were you stealing from?" Daveth shot the elf a frustrated glance and said "I was getting there" and then the frustration washed away and Daveth continued his daring tale of thievery.

"I slowly crept up behind the man standing in the middle, he was old and seemed oblivious to my approach, and just when I was about to slice up his heavy brown purse he turned around and clipped me right in the jaw" a chuckle leapt out from the mouth of the jailer and from the gaps in one eye man's mouth, and then a snort followed after as the dwarf began to laugh as well, overjoyed at the thief's misfortunes.

Daveth waited for the laughter to vanish until he continued his story "The next I woke up in a cell and found myself standing face to face with the one and only Warden-Commander, Duncan of the Grey, and it was then that I knew I had one of two choices. I either loose both hands or take the grey, and so here I am a future member of the Grey Wardens" Daveth leaned back against his iron bars and watched his story sink in.

"You were going to steal from the commander of the grey? You are either a fool or a very brave man" the elf was astonished and amazed by how brave, or foolish, Daveth was and began to believe that Daveth was just a fool.

"That's the pot calling the kettle black. I bet all my money that you are here for the same reason as me, aren't you" Daveth looked at the elf and smirked at the pointed ear man, but after a closer look Daveth began to believe the man was a boy.

Daveth could never tell with the elves, they always looked young even when their hair turned grey.

"I bet you did something really bad or else you wouldn't have taken the grey. So what did you do?" The elf suddenly averted his gaze from Daveth and looked down at his feet, refusing to give anyone in the cage a second look.

"I would rather not say" no one heard his whisper.

"What?" Daveth asked.

"I would rather not say" the elf raised his voice so Daveth could hear him better.

"I bet he did something really bad, I bet he tickled a guard to death or he was caught prancing around in a meadow" the one eye man began to laugh at his humor while everyone else remained silent.

"No he did something worse than that. Did you steal some ladies jewels? Looked a noble in the eye? Or did you steal bread to feed your starving family?" Daveth had heard that story when he met a criminal.

A handful of elves from the Alienage were dragged off every week for either stealing or for simply breathing. It was a common sight all across Thedas sadly.

"Fine don't tell, but when you feel like sharing dear old uncle Daveth will be here to listen" it was another dull jest and silence fell upon the wagon once again, while conversation's of war, whores, and the glory went about on the outside.

"Is that it?" The dwarfs question had shocked Daveth. "What do you mean that's it?" The elf was surprised by the sudden question.

"I mean did you three actually choose life over justice?" The dwarf looked at the three men and began to study each of their faces.

"If you were caught red handed by the Warden Commander himself and were given a chance for redemption wouldn't you have taken it?" Annoyance appeared to be the only expression the dwarf woman had, as she took note of Daveth's empty smile and humor.

"No I wouldn't, I would have taken death over this, and none of you are seeking redemption. You three have sought after an escape from death and I am willing to bet that is why you decided to take the grey" her gaze shifted on to the hideously scared man and the giant hole on his face.

Like pouring oil onto a fire, furry light up in the gapped tooth man's eye "Don't act all high and mighty with me you little shit stain! I bet you took the deal too!" His face twisted and became even uglier as he yelled, more fluid dripping from his nose.

"I'm already dead, a member of the Legion is forced to give up their life for the greater good of all dwarf kind and that's what I'm doing. I'm being forced to join the Grey Wardens to help save my race and end the reign of the darkspawn scourge" the dwarfs passion had surprised the thief, but not the bitter ugly man, as she turned her head and gazed out at men and women marching along the wagon.

"I wonder how many of them were given that option and were forced here" Daveth struggled to see beyond the massive hordes of men and women. He strained his eyes looking for other iron wagons and he found five each scattered.

"I wonder how many thieves, murders, and rapist are among this caravan." A great depression fell upon the four cell mates after the dwarf spoke.

"You lot are too depressing" Daveth said as he turned his gaze to the end of the cage and gazed at the knight riding upon a great horse.

The knight looked disgusted and annoyed as his horse walked alongside common men. The knight was clearly new to this, marching alongside the lesser born, and that brought a smile to Daveth face.

"Pardon me sir knight do you by chance have any whine to share among the fellows?" Daveth shouted and at the mention of 'Ser' the knight's ears perked and looked right at the wagon.

A disgusted look appeared in the knight's eye and with a light shake of his reigns the knight urged his horse forward and around the cage.

"Be silent scum. I would never give a criminal anything of my own, besides a quick death" the knights armor clinked and rattled as he galloped past the wagon.

"Well he's certainly cheery isn't he" Daveth said as he followed the knight with his eyes until he was gone from his sight.

The thief then turned his head and looked back again but instead of looking outside of the cage he looked at the fifth body riding alongside the elf in the small iron cage.

"Beg your pardon friend but I don't suppose you've got any whine under your cloak perchance do you?" Daveth study the brown cloak and watched it stir and the gruff sound of a man clearing his throat.

"Silence" by the tone of the voice the person in the brown cloak was young, clearly older than the elf, but the hood prevented anyone from seeing the man's face.

"Oh do be nice my friend, after all we're all brothers and sisters now. Members of the grey" Daveth had always hated silence, it drove him mad when the people around him refused to talk, and that's why he was going to force a conversation out of the fifth member of the wagon.

"So where are you coming from friend? Are you from Haven, Molin, or perhaps the western hills?" The stranger pulled his cloak up closer to his face as a cold breeze came from the north.

"Wow, it's getting colder by the day. I don't suppose you ever been south have you?" The question went unanswered like before and the iron cage remained silent.

"So what did you do to get thrown in here? I don't see any chains on you so you must be here of your own free will" the elf looked at Daveth and kicked him in his boot.

"Be quiet already and leave the man be. We could all use some silence" the elf hugged his knee's to his chest and buried his face into them and began to hide himself from the world, but while the elf began to hide Daveth watched the cloaked wrapped around the stranger blow in the wind and saw a glimmer of his hands and the two heavy links wrapped around his wrists.

"I take that back you're just like us. So what did you do?" For a moment Daveth thought the stranger was going to answer his question when he turned his head, but the stranger remained silent as his head tilted back to look at something.

"Would you look at that" the stranger whispered as Daveth, the dwarf, the elf, and the wretched face sell-sword all followed the strangers gaze and looked upon the Great White Wall of Ostagar.

"We have finally arrived" Daveth said as a twitch of fear ruptured in his voice.

The caravan had begun to move faster, than it ever did before, as it continued to follow the Imperium highway towards the wall.

It did take very long for the caravan to mingle into the mighty host of the camp that had gathered at the foot of the wall.

There were thousands upon thousands of people gathered at the wall; there were elves, dwarves, and men all working together for a common goal it would seem.

There was also a great deal of tents gathered into tiny or large groups, and each group had its own unique color and massive tent housed in its centre. Some of the tents were pitched along the hills of the valley, but the majority of the tents were clustered across the bottom of the wall and it stretched all the way back towards the forest and the Imperial Highway.

As the wagon rolled through the massive cluster of tents and people Daveth began to take note of each banner flapping in the wind. There were so many that the thief lost count at twenty and simply came to the conclusion that the bulk of Kings Army was on the wall.

"If I had not seen it with my own eyes I would have never believed it. The king has done it, he has summoned all his banner-men, and look at them all there has to be a hundred thousand men here!" Daveth began to sound like a child, as if a huge relief had been taken from his shoulders.

"Don't be a fool; if there were a hundred thousand men in this camp would have extended ten miles back and it would be six miles wide. I'm guessing there are only thirty, possibly forty, thousand troops here and by the looks of it only half the king's army has gathered" the one eye man said as he dragged his wrist across his hole.

"How do you bloody know?" The elf doubted the one eye man. How could an ignorant fool know what an army of one hundred thousand looks like.

"I'm a sell-sword from the Free Marches you knife-ear freak. I've fought in more wars and battles then you can count. How do you think I got these bloody scars?" His hands began to point out the many flaws on his face.

"But bugger that, I know that because only Gwaren banners are here. Look for you self. There is Bann Loren's Golden Trident" the banner was a dark green with a black trim, with a golden trident engraved in its center, with the ocean waves rising all around the golden fork and on the tip of three prong spear was a skewered fish.

"There is Bann Rodilfs Barbarian War Axe" a bloody red banner twisted as the wind blew, a double edge axe stood vertically on the red tapestry with black blood dripping from its edges and two great hands holding the axe by its hilt.

"And there is Arlessa Gladens Three Headed Bitch" the third banner was as white as fallen snow with a blue trim, and into its centre was a black three-headed Mabari hound, bearing its golden teeth.

"These are all Teyrn Loghain's banners. Men of the south!" the one eye man pointed his right hand above the dwarfs head and pointed out the final banner on their journey.

The symbol, and heart, of Gwaren was a green dragon stitched on to a black tapestry with large yellow wings wrapped around its body, a thin red tongue was sticking out of its mouth, and with eyes as red as blood.

"Then the bulk of the army comes from the Teyrn Loghain. At least these rumors are true, men, dwarves, and elves all working together… it just warms your heart doesn't it" Daveth laughed as his cheeks became flushed.

"So is this it?" The dwarf woman had asked a question but the question was far too open to answer and none of the men knew what it meant.

"This is the war we must fight? These are the men and women we must die for?" The dwarf turned around in the cage and gazed onto the other side of the camp and looked at the soldiers preparing for war, but the dwarf looked past the humans the elves and looked for her own kind.

"Dwarves haven't fought for humans in nearly four hundred years. Why would King Endrin send his forces south?" The common dwarf asked as she took a place back in her cage.

"You ask us as if we know. You are a dwarf you would know better than any of us" the city elf said as he looked at his dalish brothers and sisters.

"Although… I find myself curious as well. I'm no Dalish elf but I wonder what the gallant king had given up to have brought so many elves to his side" the city elf marveled at the Dalish walking around the camp. Each looked beautiful and furious, while he looked like a wet pup trapped in the streets of the capital.

"I'm no noble boy. I'm grew up on the streets like you and worked for the carta… I just have questions" the dwarf woman said as her legs began to bounce from her lack of patience.

"Well it looks like we are all about to get our answer" the one eye man said as he wagon drew closer to what appeared to be the end of their journey.

"Best prepare yourself boy, were all going to be dead soon enough" the one eye man said as he glared at the elf who offended him and then the one eye man shifted his eye over to the edge of the cage. The man sitting on the edge was still wrapped in his black cloak and his face remained hidden behind his hood.

"Wake the fuck up boy" the one eye man yelled, as snot flew from the hole in his skull.

"I'm awake… you talk too much" the mysterious man said as the travelling caravan began to split off into many different directions.

Wardens were being shuffled to the north, towards the wall while caravan followers were pushed east of the wall, towards a cliff.

During the massive diversion four prison wagons were led west, towards the castle that sat on the cliff and the gallows that sat underneath white fortress.

Dead men, rotted corpses, and living men hung from cages, ropes, and chains below the white castle. It was a sight to horrific and gut-wrenching to look at but it served as a reminder of what happens to deserters of in the kings army, rapist in the camp, and murderers on the field.

The fingers of death ran along the spines of each and every prisoner who rode in the wagons.

The four wagons were pulled and hauled across grass and melting snow until they stopped before the gallows and one by one each cage had been emptied.

The prisoners were placed before the wooden gallows and forced to stand in place with there iron chains chaffing at their wrists and ankles.

"Well it was a pleasure knowing you lot… except for you. You never talked during our adventure" Daveth chuckled as he looked to his left and at the hooded man that stood beside him.

"Let's keep it that way" the man whispered as Daveth watched the man tip his head forward to hide his nose, chin, and lips.

"Just who in the nine hells are you-" Daveth was suddenly cut off by the loud booming voice of a dwarf wearing armor as silver as a coin, with a white griffin painted on his chest.

"Listen up you bloody maggots! You lot are here to answer for the crimes against your people, your families, and your crown" the dwarf spoke with the authority of a general and with the power of a man who had nothing to loose.

"You were each given a choice of either death or taking the gray and we can guess what you all choose" the dwarf's lips were suddenly pulled back and he quickly reveled his horrible yellow grin.

"I'm here to tell you all that you made the wrong choice. This is not an escape!" The dwarf's ugly smile vanished in half a heartbeat as he began to look down the row of condemned men and women.

"Once you join the Wardens, it's for life! Once you take the oath you are forever bound to our cause and no matter how hard you try" the dwarf was about to yell a few more words but a hand suddenly appeared on his shoulder and the veteran warrior lost his voice.

"There is no going back" the commander of the Gray said as he stepped closer to the edge of the gallows and looked down at his new recruits.

"Only in death can you be free. Prepare yourself," the commander spoke with the wisdom of a man his age but with the respect of a man half his age "as of today your **Joining **begins" Duncan said as he looked down at the hooded man and for a moment the hooded man raised his eyes and met Duncan's.

"Welcome to the Gray Wardens"


	2. The Glorious King

**Dragon Age: Revelations **

**By: aadpeters23**

* * *

**Chapter 2: The Glorious King**

"And after we are able to draw in the main horde, our main force could flank the enemy from the rear just as they enter Ostagar's walls" a seasoned war veteran said as his bruised finger tapped against the drawing of white wall on a sheep skin map.

"With any luck we may be able to beat back this raid before the autumn ends" a the faded blue and purple finger was removed from the map and placed on the edge of an ornate sword hilt, decorated in gold and bright miniature sapphire gems.

"Your father and I used this strategy once against the Chasined King many years ago. With any luck these beasts will prove as foolish and barbaric as the tribes" the hilt of the ornate sword was suddenly grasped and the knuckles on the kings hand were turning a pale white. He was trying to crush his sword hilt, but mortal hands had no chance against harden steel. The war veteran felt angry as he looked at the map. He knew what was lying on the other side of that wall, but he refused to believe that is nothing more than a simple darkspawn raid.

'_Rumours are words bred from lies. There is not Blight and there is no Arch-Demon'_ the old warrior had to keep reassuring himself of the truth every time he looked at a map, a solider, or the corpse of darkspawn. However, no matter how hard he reminded himself of the truth the lies kept spewing out the mouth's of friends and foes alike, but no lie was worse than the lie spoken from his king.

"Your grace, do you agree with the strategy?" the old solider asked as he looked up from the map and looked across the old oak table and saw only the bookshelf on the other side of the room.

The old knight had hoped to see his king standing before, but he once again his hopes were dashed as he glanced over to the window saw his grace looking out the window again.

"Your majesty must you ignore me?" The old man asked as he wandered over to an old stone window, his steel armor and boots ringing with each step he took.

"Your grace" a gust of wind suddenly blew through the window and blew the old knight's black and silver hair around his head and into his brown eyes.

"Your grace, " he repeated himself once more, his brow narrowing in disappointment.

"Cailan!" He had to shout the name, he never liked raising his voice, but it was the only way to get his foolish son to pay attention.

"Must you yell Loghain?" the golden hair king asked as he looked over his shoulder and glared at his uncle.

"I have heard your plan a hundred times over and again I disagree with it" the king had repeated himself over and over before, Loghain knew that to be true, but Loghain was a seasoned warrior and Cailan was still a fresh to the scent of blood.

"Your grace if you would just take a moment and hear my wisdom and the wisdom of our council, you may finally see the truth to our words" Loghain prayed a silent prayer to the all mighty maker and his daughter, to let Cailan open his ears and close his mouth.

'_Please, let my words reach the bloody fool'_ Loghain prayed, but the Teryn's words went unanswered and the King of Ferelden continued to gaze down into his camp.

"Hard to believe that all three races have gathered under my banner of peace" the gallant King Cailan said as he his walked away from his window and carefully walked over to his table, on the opposite side of the castle solar, and took a seat in a wooden chair with a green patted cushion.

"What my father would have given to see this day?" The king said allowed as he traced his left hand over the edge of the table and across the map Loghain laid on it. The paper was old and its edges were torn or ripped, but it was the only map anyone had of the southern wilds.

"Indeed, your father would have given anything to see this alliance between Ferelden, Orzammar, and the Dalish" the three titles the man spoke rang in the air as he approached the stone table, placing his hands upon the desk and began to study each book and paper on it.

The sight was a great disappointment to him. Each book and scroll would talk about the great feats of dead Warden's. One book was titled 'The Lost to Our Age'; it was a book that was mainly filled with the names of dead Wardens from the Steel Age. There were so many scrolls and papers dedicated to the Grey Wardens on Cailan's table that it would appear that the Grey Wardens were all the childish king cared about.

"May the Maker give him rest" Loghain said as he picked up one of the old scrolls and carefully unraveled the sheet. The paper was old; it appeared to have dated back to the Ancient Age, during the reign of the first blight. Loghain could hardly make out the ruins that inscribed on the paper, but there was no doubt Cailan could read it.

"I see your obsession for these Gray Wardens has increased Cailan. Dare I ask why you have grown so fond of these birds of Orlais" at first he spoke with the voice of a concerned father, but his tone shifted and became the voice of a bitter old man filled with distrust.

"Why must you mock them Loghain? The Grey Wardens are our allies and we need to trust them" Cailan said as he opened up one of his books while his loyal Teyrn gave his grace a sour look. Loghain could not take the king's slights of ignorance anymore. The old soldier walked away from the grace's table and approached the bookcase that had glanced at before.

There was a vast amount of books to choose from but he only needed one. The old man had chosen a brown leather book that had no title. All four of its corner's were bent and its binding was failing, but the book's contents remained strong throughout the ages.

"Not this again Loghain" the king moaned as he watched his uncle open the book and slowly turn its pages until he finally stopped on a single page in his father's old journal.

"Never forget and never forgive your grace" Loghain said as he slowly approached his son.

"What Orlais did this country was a disgrace to our people and our homes. The mistakes of your father should have taught you to never trust Orlais and their liars!" Teyrn Loghain scorned the boy with fire of the green dragon as he placed the old tattered journal on the table.

"Loghain I have read this journal a thousand times over and it has warned me of many great things" the king reached out across his wooden table and took the journal and placed it in his hands and began to turn the pages of the old book.

To Loghain it was an old book filled with the mistakes of past kings and rulers, but to Cailan it was a book about valor, honor, and the heroics of great men and women. All who were born to the Theirin bloodline had their lives turned into black ink and written into a book. Hundreds of copies were hidden in Ferelden's capital in Denerim. One day Cailan would want to read his own book and would want it filled with his own heroic deeds.

"Loghain I believe you are reading the wrong book" Cailan said as he turned to a different page in the old book.

"I will admit my father made many mistakes, but out of all my father's mistakes trusting someone was not one of them" King Cailan said as his dark golden eyes fell upon the passage he was looking for. It was an old story that dated back to the Blessed Age and it was a dark time filled with war and terror, but it was also a time of young love and foolish choices.

"Then you are as foolish as your father" Loghain said with tone so cold that it froze Cailan to the bone.

"You would destroy everything we worked so hard for; just so your name can go down in glory and in honor. You are just like your father, curse that damn fool!" Loghain slammed his fist on the wooden table, his hand throbbing from the pain, but then Loghain slowly regained his posture and cleared his throat.

Cailan felt as if he was a child again. No living man had ever dared to speak to the king in such a manner, no one except Loghain. The hero of old yelled at him, scorned him, and struck him many times when he did foolish things. Before he came of age, Cailan saw these brutish actions as the sign of a concerned father and mentor, but as of late, they seem to be the brash actions of a fearful man.

"Do you have so little faith in me, uncle? Do you think of me as a Jester at a carnival of fools?" Loghain could hear the king in Cailan's voice, and that was good.

"I have all the faith in Thedas in you my king. But your dreams of glory, honor, and adventure are leading you down a path similar to Maric's" Loghain doubled back to the window where Cailan once stood and gazed out and looked down at the thousands of men and women in the camp.

"This alliance you have forged with the dwarves and elves will not last. Neither trust humans and nor do we trust them" Cailan quickly rose from his table and journeyed over to his uncle's side and looked down at the dwarf camp.

"The Dwarves are stubborn as the rocks that bore them and they are so blinded by tradition that they can no longer see the truth" Loghain watched a young dwarf lift a barrel on to his back, a barrel so heavy that two men could not lift it.

"The Dalish are the same. They hate us for crimes they brought upon themselves generations ago and would rather burn our castles and let our lands fall to ruin" Loghain could see the tribes of the Dalish in the far corner of the war camp. The tree cover kept Loghain, and other men, from seeing what they were doing in the forest. The Dwarves were no different, most hid in their tents for fear of falling into the skies while others buried themselves into their work.

"We cannot trust them or your fabled Grey Wardens" Loghain said as his eyes fell upon the wagons that were rolled up to the castle barracks. Cailan could finally hear the fear in his uncle's voice and that almost made Cailan laugh. Loghain was more fearful of those living on his side of the wall then of those that lived on the other side, and if the king were to be honest with himself he was afraid as well.

History has always had a nasty habit of repeating itself. Many alliances have been forged in the name of friendship and honor but even more had broken by greed, loyalty, and trust. When Cailan first approached the dwarves and Dalish about his alliance he was met with hostility and unruly conduct, he had begun to fear for the worse.

However, the Maker above had smiled upon the Ferelden King when the clans of the Dalish and the noble houses of Orzammar heard the rumors of Ostagar. By then an army had rallied behind Ferelden's golden Mabari. The threat of a blight should have been enough to unite the three race's of Ferelden and yet Cailan still feared the worse.

"We have no choice uncle" Cailan rose said in a very solemn voice.

"When you look out there you see only enemies" Cailan gestured towards the immense army that had gathered behind his wall.

"But when I look at them, I see friends. Shape, color, and size might divide us Loghain but a common enemy has united us" Cailan explained while his uncle's nostrils flared with anger and his eyes shine with fury.

"Do not fool yourself Cailan. These dwarves, elves, and Gray Wardens are only here because of the gifts you have promised them. Armies for the dwarves, a homeland for the elves, and the Gray Wardens are now given the freedom to walk on our lands again" Loghain could see the Cailan's attention was drawing thin. The king was more interested in glory and legends than in truths.

"Never put your faith in outsiders my king. Put your faith in your Banner men, your Alrs, and your Teyrns" Loghain placed a hand on Cailans shoulder and drew the king away from his imagination.

"Do not make the same mistake your father did and heed my words" Loghain could feel the tension rise in the king's shoulder.

"On an outsiders whim your father sailed off into the great unknown and was never seen again. Do not remain a fool my king!" Cailan had heard enough and had removed Loghain's iron grip from his shoulder.

"Loghain I-" Cailan was suddenly interrupted by a large thud that had repeated itself over and over again.

"Enter" Cailan shouted as noted the thumping noise to be his chamber door.

The wooden door to his chamber was shoved upon with great force and creaked and squeaked as it open. An older gentlemen, with a very pale face, in dark brown armor quickly stepped into the room, his head bowed and his arm placed across his chest.

"Beg your pardon your grace, the warden commander has returned and he has brought new recruits to take the Grey and there are those who wish to join your army" the soldier, or knight, spoke swiftly as he slowly regained his posture and placed both of his hands behind his back.

"How many did Commander Duncan return with?" Cailan asked and like a trained dog the solider was quick to answer.

"By his count your grace he has brought us three hundred" a small smile appeared on the man's face, the corners of lips became hidden behind his bushy moustache.

"And how many of them are trained in the art of warfare, combat, and death?" Loghain asked.

"Your Lordship" the solider quickly bowed to Loghain and returned to his former posture.

"Of the three hundred, one hundred are Gray Wardens and they have travelled from Orlias, thirty are new recruits taking the Grey, and the remaining numbers are sellswords from the Free Marches, wandering Knights, and farm boys seeking riches" the solider explained as Cailan placed his hand on his chin and began to do some math in his mind.

"Damn it all. We don't need anymore sellswords, farmers, or wandering knights. If Eamon keeps buying these men there won't be a drop of gold left in his bloody mountain" Loghain barked while his king rubbed the bridge of this nose in annoyance.

'_Eamon's bloody mountain'_ the king mused over the words and fond memories of Redcliff danced in his mind. Many believed Redcliff to be named after rubies and riches hidden in its mountains and hills, but lore and history have shown many have spilt blood at the foot of the Eamon's cliff, and thus Redcliff was born.

'_How long before I dig into kingdom's fortunes?'_ the golden king wondered as he pushed away his fond memories.

"Then that only leaves the wardens with two hundred men" the king whispered, but the Teyrn of Gwaren heard his king and choose to speak his mind once again.

"And that only leaves us well over thirty thousand. Have we received word from Teyrn Couseland? Does his army march south?" Loghain asked as the solider stiffened in fear.

"I… I mean a hawk did appear in the night and then a hound in the morning. Both letters were brought before you my king" the solider tone had suddenly softened as Loghain's eyes narrowed. His gaze was set upon the man with the moustache and then on his king.

"You received a letter from the north and have told me nothing about it?" Loghain temper had reached its peak but Cailan paid the man no attention.

"Telling you would have not served our cause. Yelling and shouting will not help them arrive here any sooner or defeat the darkspawn. A storm has struck their party and they wrote they will arrive in eight days with ten thousand men at their backs" Cailan said as approached his desk and pulled a rolled up piece of parchment and quickly placed it in his uncle's hand.

Loghain quickly unraveled the parchment and began to read the letter and the paper spoke the truth. A storm had struck them as they were making there way down the Imperial Highway.

"This is problematic" Loghain mumbled as he ripped the paper in two.

"It is only problematic for you Lord Loghain. You were going to use Lord Couseland's men in your vanguard" Cailan knew of every detail in his uncle's plan for fighting off the darkspawn horde, but Cailan refused to use such a plan.

"Loghain these are not simple wild folk we are fighting. These are darkspawn. They think, act, and move differently from other men" Cailan said as he approached the map on his table.

"Your plan would lead us to open battle and I don't know if our numbers could survive such an onslaught. We are still out numbered ten to one against the beast's and the wall still sands" for a brief moment Loghain felt proud of Cailan, the boy cared for his people, but then Loghain felt he was being belittled once more.

"Do you have a better plan then?" Loghain asked as he watched his king raise his voice and call out a name. A boy suddenly ran in, no older than nine or ten.

"Yes, your grace" the boy said as he bowed to is king.

"Oscar go and fetch my amour. I'm going down into the camp" Calian quickly undid his golden buttons and belts and let his red and brown noble shirt fall to the floor.

"And inform Commander Duncan of my arrival" the king ordered as the solider in his chambers bowed his head and stepped out of the room, while the boy Oscar and another boy pulled in the King's golden armor.

"Well done squire. We will make a knight out of you yet" Cailan said as a small smile appeared on the boy's freckled face.

"What are you planning Cailan?" Loghain asked as he watched the boy help his king into his enchanted amour.

"Isn't obvious Loghain? I am off to speak with Commander Duncan and ask for his help in this matter of **Darkspawn War Fare**" Cailan helped the young squire fashion his gauntlets, his vamebrace, and finally his tasset.

"Your grace please did not seek this man for council. He will lead you astray" Loghain had taken Calian by his elbow and that's all it took for Calian to snap.

"Enough uncle! I have grown tired of your fear of conspiracies. For once put your trust in me" the king roared as he took his sword from his squire's hand and marched out of his chambers and down the great hall lined with doors and other chambers. The two guards posted at the kings doors quickly rushed after him and followed their king all the way down, from the top of the wall. The three men arrived in a great hall, filled with weapons, men, and supplies.

Legends of old told the king that the Grand Hall could hold a five thousands strong including a few hundred squires and their horse's but the chamber was still half empty. A perfect room to store weapons and supplies for when the battle begins but Calian was not ready for battle. The thought of war fare frighten him still and he refused to acknowledge it.

The youthful king entered the massive crowd of men and women and struggled to walk to his destination but no matter how far he walked he would be force to stop and receive the respect and honor's he was due from his men-at-arms, his knights, and his loyal lords. Part of Calian enjoyed the attention but another part despised it.

They all worshipped him but not for his glorious deeds of valor or honor, but for his name. A name he had come to respect but loath all at the same time.

How can a boy appreciate the name of a man he barely knew? Calian had asked himself this question many times over the years and each time he asked he never received the answer he wanted.

"First you must understand him" Loghain had told Calian once and that is how the boy king received his father's book, a glorious book filled with the adventure and glory, but no matter how much Cailan read he would never be his father. For all his father's knowledge and great deeds they never brought Calian any closer to the glory he was seeking.

But lingering in the past no longer mattered, his grace had reached the end of the massive hall and had stepped through its might doors and into the light of the high sun. Calian always enjoyed the sun and being outside. As a child he would always sneak out to try and go hunt or fish but again and again he was caught.

He always afraid of being caught by Loghain and his father, but the fear of a child could never match the child of a king. However, the king's fear seemed pointless in Calian's mind as he walked farther from the wall, and he watched the Warden-Commander appear in his line of sight.

"Duncan!" Calian shouted as he approached his senior, who had turned and appeared deeply surprised to see him.

"King Calian what are you doing here?" Duncan asked as he turned his back on his new recruits.

"I always make time for old friends" King Calian said as he gaze looked past the Warden-Commander and at the men and woman gathered before him. There were thirty in total, men and women, dwarfs, elves, and human's all bound by chain and link.

For a brief moment the king felt a great disappointment strike him in his chest. These were prisoners, thieves, and criminals none were the stuff of legends spoken in Cailan's books. Some appeared sick, others weak, and only a handful appeared capable of wielding a blade.

"We are honored your grace but shouldn't you be with your generals preparing for the next raid?" Duncan asked as the king stepped around the Warden Commander and began to study each new warden recruit.

All thirty men and women were being ordered around, like common foot soldiers, by senior members of Duncan's order. Soon the thirty were divided into three groups of ten, each given to one of three warden generals. A harden dwarf, a young man with dark blonde hair, and a woman that had thick arms, broad shoulders, and a powerful Orlesian accent.

"I was, but it would seem that my uncle and I have run into a small problem" Cailan watched the three generals walk down the lines of recruits and began to inspect them.

"Duncan I thought I gave you my voice to recruit anyone you want" the king felt slightly disappointed in Duncan's choice of wardens.

"You did your grace but sadly only a handful of my chosen were willing to come. The rest, as you can see, are prisoners who feared death" Duncan could sense the kings disappointment and, if the commander was honest with himself, he felt the same way.

"I don't understand. Did Teyrn Guerrin give you and your men much resistance?" Cailan asked as he watched the dwarf captain take a one eye man, with no nose, by the chin and yank is head down his level.

"No your grace, Teyrn Guerrin offered me and my kin hospitality and grace but I fear-" Duncan paused for a moment and licked his lips and his dark black mustache, and then the commander leaned in and whispered into the kings ear.

"Your grace, you do understand that my orders number's are limited and that many of my kin come from the lands of Orlais" Cailan was beginning to understand what Duncan was telling him.

"I see" once again fear washed over Cailan as he watched the tall blond stepped away from an angry dwarf woman.

"Blood still boils on both sides" Cailan muttered.

"I am afraid so and as per your request I have brought you this" Duncan had secretly placed a tiny scrap of paper in the kings hand. Cailan did not look and he did not watch Duncan place the paper in his hand but once it was in his grasp Cailan looked down at the tiny square and carefully unfolded it. Words had been printed on to the old yellowish paper and for a moment the king smiled, it was a brief smile that vanished in half a heart-beat.

"Excellent, thank you for your support Lord Commander" Cailan said as he watched the broad shoulder Orlesian woman grasp a frail elf by his neck and forced the lad to stand up straight.

"What are your men doing?" Calian asked as he put his hands behind his back and looked to his left and at Duncan.

"My men are taking their names and appraising their skills" Duncan explained as each of his senior officers took down the names of every man and woman in their line while inspecting them for skills and traits.

Cailan almost laughed at Duncan's statement. None of those gathered before the Commander appeared worthy of the Grey but the king knew that the warden's still had use for craftsmen, bakers, stonemasons, and squires.

"Are they prepared to face the dangers beyond the wall Lord Commander?" The king asked as Duncan he watched a slim elf and a woman carry a crate off of the back of a wagon and place it before Duncan's general, a young lad with dark blond hair.

"Not yet but they soon will be your grace" Duncan explained as the king watched the knight open the chest. The box was filled with tools, weapons, and clothes. The personal belongings of each recruit brought to the camp. One by one each recruit was given there old belongings back, swords, knives, hammers, and lute. Everyone had something, everyone except the cloaked man standing in the back.

"Duncan who is this man?" Calian asked as watched the dwarf begin to yell at the hooded man to keep walking, but the mysterious man did not move or bend. He remained still. The dwarf yelled again and took the man by his chains and pulled him to his knees. His hood was suddenly pulled from his head and that was when the king Cailan saw his face.

It was a young, no older than four in twenty, a face of a young man with one blue eye and one violet eye.

"It cannot be" the king could not deny those eyes. Only one man had those eyes in all of Ferelden.

"Aaron! Aaron Amell!" The king shouted as he stepped past the knight with dark blond hair and embraced the man with white hair and mismatched eyes.

_Bullshit!_

"Excuses me?" Leliana asked with a hint of reassignment in her voice against the woman he interrupted her story.

"Do you except me to believe that Aaron Amell was brought to Ostagr in chains?" Cassandra asked as she suddenly became impatient.

"Aaron was a Champion of Ferelden and Hero to the Chantry, why was he brought to the king in chains?" Cassandra asked as she began to pace around the room once again.

"Surly you jest milady. You are a seeker surly you must know the truth" Leliana was almost surprised to see Cassandra so lost.

"I see," Leliana suddenly felt foolish "I can understand why the Chantry might hide this. Aaron remains a threat to church" Leliana muttered as the Seeker looked at Leliana and began to glare at the bard.

"What do you know?" the seeker asked in a solemn voice.

"Are you asking me to ruing the story?" Leliana asked and just before Lady Pentaghast could speak Leliana held up her hand and pointed at the Seeker.

"Calm yourself commander it was a simple jest and a very bad one" Leliana asked. The bard waited for three heart beats until the seeker spoke.

"I know," she hesitated to speak for a moment "very little of his past, but I know he was a mage of the three circles and that he served as a Battle Mage for the Chantry" Leliana simply smiled at the iron eye woman as she remained silent and listened to her speak.

"I know that he became a hero to Ferelden when he averted a Qunari invasion, beyond that I know nothing else" Cassandra suddenly turned her back on Leliana and opened a book she had concealed behind her back.

"Each pages tells me he was a powerful warrior, a mage beyond match, beyond that I have heard troubling…rumors …rumors that I believe to be a lie" Cassandra said as she stood utterly still and in silence.

Leliana chuckled while Cassandra glared at her with her cold iron eyes.

"Did I miss a jab?" Cassandra asked.

"No my lady, I am laughing at something else. Something far worse" Leliana said as she chuckle came to an end but still she continued to smile.

"What?" Cassandra asked as one her eyebrows rose and began to scrunch her forehead.

"These rumors you have been hearing. Tell me about them. By chance I've heard them as well and may-haps I've seen it as well" Cassandra was growing tired of the Bards smile and began to speak quickly and fluently.

"I have nothing to say. I know what I believe and I will not let you change my mind" Cassandra finished as the smile from the Leliana's face vanished.

"Believe what you will milady but some rumors are true, and not all men and women are as loyal to the chantry as you may think" Leliana suddenly felt fear wash up her back and she watched for Cassandra go through the same.

The things Leliana saw and experienced were more terrifying than any man, woman, or child could every experience in their life.

'_She dose not know the truth'_ Leliana thought_, 'but how can she. With the chaos brewing all around us the thought of a mage as powerful as him maybe enough to spark a fire towards war'_ Leliana struggled to regain her thoughts as she pushed down her repressed memories and continued on with her story

"Well as I was saying…

_King Calian had_ _approached Aaron and…_

"By Andraste's skirts it's so good to see you my old friend!" Calian grasped the young mage by his shoulder and gave the mismatched eye wizard a smile so big Aaron thought the kings lips might rip.

"It is good to see you again your grace" Aaron spoke politely and swiftly with tone deep with solemn and respect, and just before Aaron could begin bowing to his king Cailan spoke up.

"My friend you have no right to bow to me you are Ferelden's Champion, I should be bowing to you" the king insisted with a mocking gesture.

"You honor me your grace but I fear you have been misinformed" Aaron voice continued to remain strong as he spoke.

"What do you mean?" Calian asked as he awaited his answer but it was Loghain who answered his question.

"I am Champion no more" again Cailan did not understand.

"I do not understand, what do you mean that you are no longer a champion?" Cailan asked when he suddenly heard the sound of his uncle's voice.

"This is a poor topic of discussion to have in open camp. Perhaps Ser Amell would prefer to be locked away in a cell" Loghain had appeared from behind, followed by his own personal guard. Aaron did not seem shocked or surprised to see Ferelden's former Champion standing before him.

The Teyrn of the south kept his judging gaze set upon the lad with nothing but distaste emanating from his face.

"What is the meaning of this uncle? Aaron Amell has been Ferelden's Champion since the day I sat upon throne. What has he done?" Calian asked as he began to raise his voice, much like his father would whenever he and Loghain would speak.

"Your grace, I would heed your uncle's wisdom. This is not a topic that should be spoken in public" Aaron suddenly spoke up and drew his king's attention back to him.

"Forgive me your grace but there is a war to be won" Aaron said as Calian began to calm himself, as he looked upon the calm demeanor of his friend.

"A wise decision, I am pleased to see you still have some commonsense about you Amell" Loghain had mocked he lad but the white hair mage simply bowed his head and paid his respects to Loghain.

"Now, you grace why have you brought us all down here, are we to mingle with the thieves and scum of Ferelden or do you have another reason for wasting our time?" Loghain asked as a chuckle broke out amongst his four bodyguards.

Calian wished to push the matters of war aside for a brief moment to speak with his oldest and truest friend, but in his heart the king knew he could not delay.

"Duncan I came here seeking your council I pray that you maybe able to help us form a new strategy to battle the darkspawn horde" the King grasped the hilt of his sword while he looked at the commander of the Grey.

"At once your grace" Duncan said as he crossed his arms over his chest and bowed to the king.

"Meet me in the Kings Tower by night fall and be sure to bring all your lieutenants with you" the King commanded as he approached his uncle.

"Loghain gather all our commanding officers and order each of them to meet us in the tower" the King's voice boomed with authority as he spoke.

"At once your grace" Loghain, like an obedient hound, bowed his head and marched off to gather his kings men.

"Ser Pilen, relay this message to our allies" the king pointed at one of the knights following him.

"Tell them to gather their commanders and generals as well and have them meet us in the tower. We will be having a war council" the king had commanded and the knight had obeyed as he raced off to do as his king commanded.

"Aaron" before the king left to return to the wall he turned and faced the young wizard.

"I would request that you join me at our War Council. I would prefer judgment come into play during our war efforts" the king's request was met with a polite bow from Aaron.

"As you wish, your grace" Aaron said as the king turned his back on the wizard and began to walk away, followed by his personal guard.

"It's moments like these that make you appreciate good friends" the blond hair warden said as stood beside Aaron, arms folded with a big goofy grin on his face.

"Indeed it is during moments like this that I thank the Maker for giving me a good friend" Aaron said as he watched Calian go.

"But I also pray for a better king" the mage said with great despair in his voice.

* * *

**Notes**: I've worked on the chapter half a dozen times in the last week and I have struggled to make Aaron seem more mysterious and forgien to my readers. I've always enjoyed the tales of young men and women growing into their power but I want to take another approach to my writing.

I want my main character to already have power, to be a celebrity to the public, and I want his story to be revealed throughout the my story. I thought this would be a fun idea and if it's boring or overbearing please tell me and I will fix my writing right away.


	3. Night Fall

**Dragon Age: Revelations**

**By: aadpeters23**

* * *

Chapter 3: Night Fall

"Are these the last of your belongings Lord Amell?" A young Elvin child asked as he reached down into a Grey Warden chest and pulled out a stack of wrinkled rags and folded blankets.

"Indeed, thank you lad" Aaron, the silver hair mage, said as he took the clothes in his arms and placed five copper coins in the lad's hand, but the boy did not leave.

The elvin child, with big brown eyes, smiled at Aaron his yellow teeth pecking through his lips.

Aaron had no further use for the child so he turned his back on him and began to walk towards the Grey Warden encampment, so he may prepare for the trials his fellow Grey Warden's warned him about, but these warnings seemed to merely rumors.

"They're gonna send us beyond the wall together, I tell ya!" The misshapen sellsword once said.

"I heard Lord Duncan is going to put us up against one another and have each of us fight to the death. That's how they decide if you become a Warden or not" Aaron had heard that rumor from the elvin man that from Denerim's Alienage.

Many recruits were spreading rumors of trials and death but after spending so many years in a tower that filled with rumor after rumor, Aaron had learned to simply ignore the words of fools and simply wait for the truth.

"Why are you still following me boy?" Aaron asked as he felt the lingering eyes of a child staring at his back.

"Are you the real Aaron Amell?" The boy asked as he quickens his pace so he may walk along side mage.

"That was the name I was given" Aaron said as he felt the attention grow slightly annoying.

"I hear that you are the greatest mage who ever lived. My father's tells me you have fought off whole armies and bands of pirates" the boy's enthusiasm was very admirable, for one so young, but Aaron it still remained highly unwanted.

"I assure you all of the tales you have heard of are mere fables. I have never left my homeland nor have I ever faced down entire armies" Aaron said as he entered the Grey Warden campsite and began to make his way to the tent that had been given to him by his fellow Warden Alistar.

"You're being too kind Ser Aaron, my father swears by the Maker that you are indeed a great hero and my father never lies" the boy laughed as his attention fell upon a great horse that galloped past him, but that brief moment of movement had quickly faded and once again the boy was speaking to Aaron.

"How did you get past the guards?" Aaron asked as he looked over his shoulder and down at the boy and then back at the four men posted at the wooden gate to the encampment.

"Is it true that you travelled all over the world, and-and that you battled the savages of the north?" The boy began to dig where no man should but how could Aaron be angry with such a young child. A boy who only knew nothing of the real world, he only knew the truth beyond the lies of those who told him such things.

"Believe what you will boy, now be off. Go tend to your duties and leave me to mine" Aaron commanded as he approached the tent he was given, and without speaking another word the great mage vanished behind his tent.

Aaron had the left the world of war and entered his world of privacy and peace, something the mage had not received since his imprisonment.

The tent was very small from the outside but on the inside it was surprisingly spacious, there had been enough room for three men but Aaron stood alone with only a single chest and cot to occupy his space.

The King would have offered Aaron a more suitable room but the mage refused his grace and simply asked to be left in peace.

With his privacy secured Aaron approached his cot and placed his rags and blankets upon his yellowish sheets.

The mage suddenly felt tired and ill.

Weeks of denial and suffering had finally surfaced and were beginning to affect Aaron. The mage felt the undeniable urge to sleep but the young man knew he could not. He would need to fight off his desires and focus on his orders

10 11 12

"You will gather your weapons, armor, and whatever belongings you have and meet us in the yard. There I will see what you little nug runners are made of. So move! Move! Move!" The angry little dwarf commanded.

Like leaves in coming the windy winters, all recruits were scattered to the wind. Most of the new recruits were taken to the castle armory to be fitted for war and combat and others retreated to the tents they were provided.

Many of the recruits brought to Ostagar were allowed to retrieve their belongings and were allowed to bring them with. Many warriors brought there arms and armor while lesser fighters brought simple things such as kitchen knives, clubs, and Aaron even saw a dwarf brining a cooking pot with him.

The sight made Aaron laugh when he watched the simple dwarf place the pot on his head. Many who had come to the wall were ill-prepared and ill-suited for war, combat, and death. Sadly those would be the trials each recruit will face during the war against the Darkspawn.

These thoughts made Aaron feel sick and ill.

Once, long ago he felt as they did. He was unskilled, ill-prepared, and he was never suited for war.

Those thoughts made the Battle-Mage feel tired and drowsy

But for a brief moment, however long it was, had past and Aaron finally found his strength and began to move again and his first step was towards the trunk occupied in his tent.

The wizard had to swift; he dove into his trunk and began to pull out many strange and peculiar items from his chest's.

Many things clanked together and jingled as Aaron moved things and dropped them upon the cold ground.

Aaron never had the pleasure of having his own page or squire so dawning his own armor did take him quiet sometime, but patience had become a great tool for the mage as he quickly dressed himself.

Unlike other armors, worn by knights and common soldiers, Aaron's armor was unique and had been specifically suited for him and no one else.

Aaron first slipped into his suitable woollen clothes that were faded from years of wear and tare. But once dressed Aaron strapped his greaves to his shins, both greaves were a dark black that emanated a dark light when shined in the candlelight. Aaron then strapped his black cuisse to his thighs and then his grey tasset to his waist.

The breastplate came next and it was a darker shade of black, but the plate had silver trims etched into its steel, and engraved in the plate's centre were symbols that represent both the Circle of Magi and the Chantry.

A bright sun, made of pure silver, was engraved upon the black steel and it glimmered in candlelight as well.

A small palm had been engraved into the center of the silver sun and the hand was open and it was shaped and colored by white steel, one of the rarest metals in all of Thedas.

Aaron ran his left hand over the symbol, the symbol of his order, and felt a great depression wash over him as he removed his hand from the silver sun and white hand.

Images of the past and long forgotten memories flashed before the mages eyes.

Those were the memories of old and it felt as if they had happened a lifetime ago.

Aaron could hear men and women screaming.

There was a sudden explosions but then he heard a whisper, and then a soft voice that appeared from the depths of his mind.

_Help…_

The word repeated itself again.

_Help… _

The mage placed his left hand on his face and ran it down from his forehead to his chin, acting as if wiping his face would wipe away his memories, but all Aaron managed to do was redden his face and blur his vision.

Finally the mage found his thoughts once more and began to place his faded silver vambrace on his biceps and then he put his polished black gauntlets on his arms.

Aaron felt the weight of the armor on his body and a greater weight of depression on his mind, but Ferelden's champion refused to let his emotions control him.

"A conquered mind is the greatest weapon for a mage" Aaron told himself as he looked down upon himself and began to check to see if anything appeared misplaced but there was nothing.

But Aaron had one final piece of armor to put on, which was neither helm nor cap.

His hands dove into the chest once more and pulled out the final piece of the black armor, something that had separated him from other mages.

A cape and a cowl, that's all it was, a black piece of cloth that draped over his shoulders and a hood and mask that were meant to conceal his face.

This is what made Aaron different from other mages in all of Thedas.

His icy steel mask and black cape hid everything. No man, dwarf, or elf could see beyond his steel mask.

Aaron was a phantom, a ghost, a creature of mystery and terror for those who became his enemy.

Aaron Amell was once again suited for battle but something felt amiss.

Aaron felt ill-suited for combat and he knew why.

It was his mask.

Aaron's mask made him feel depressed and useless.

Slowly Aaron removed his steel mask and cast his gaze upon it. There had been nothing special about the mask, unlike his armor, it was neither enchanted nor made of special metals but it did represent something.

Once that mask marked Aaron as someone of great importance but now it only served as a reminder of who, and what, he once was. The Mage hurled the mask into air and heard the steel hit the ground.

Without any hesitation Aaron stepped out from his tent and felt a cold Ferelden wind hit his face.

The elvin child was no where to be seen and Aaron was grateful for that.

"I pray that child remains safe" Aaron whispered as many wandering eyes began to fall upon him, and without wasting another breath the Battle Mage made his way to the practice yard.

The Yard had been placed near the western valley wall and it was quiet a journey to make.

The Grey Warden encampment had been placed in the north, nearest to the wall, and the practice yard was placed far to the south.

On many occasions Aaron had to ask a blacksmith, soldier, and courier for directions to the yard, and once he had arrived Aaron felt like the fool at court.

The yard was far too big to miss but the lads embarrassment vanished when heard a familiar voice roaring in the distance.

"Swing that damn thing! Swing it!" The dwarf had to yell over the crowd cheering spectators around him. Aaron counted more than forty men and women, and each had gathered around a square fence to watch a man and woman battle one another.

The woman was an elf, and from her green and brown leathers, Aaron could safely assume she was Dalish and very skilled with shield and sword. However her opponent, a youth in mismatched armor, was struggling to keep his footing while swinging a chained mace.

"Come on gut the rat already!" The cheering was odd to Aaron.

"Think boy! Don't just swing whenever you damn well feel like it!" The mage felt as if he had entered another one of Calian's tourney's, and he may as well have.

Drinks were being shared, gold coins were being flung around like leaves, and there was a thick stench of blood in the air.

Aaron remained on the outside of the circle and watch the match from afar and he was disappointed to say the least. The boy was nothing more than a chaisned folk swinging a club, no matter where he swung his weapon he would miss or the elf would bounce it off her shield.

The boy had no talent while the elvin woman showed grace as she moved from left to right, back and forth, showing no signs of being fatigued or weak. However, her arrogance was glimmering in her eyes.

"I know what your thinking" Aaron was startled by the voice he heard and quickly turned his head and his eyes quickly met Lord Duncan's.

"Commander" Aaron bowed his head out of habit and less out of respect.

"It's hard to believe that the order was once mighty and strong" Duncan most have ignored Aaron's gesture of respect because he kept on speaking.

"But after seeing this it is very easy to see why we have fallen so low" Duncan and Aaron watched the boy lift his mighty weapon over his head and struggle to swing it at the Dalish elf, but while the boy raised his mace the elf stepped in and tackled the boy to the ground and held the edge of the blade at the boy's throat.

"These are children born into a world of peace, they know nothing of war and they each choose to ignore it" Aaron said as he watched the boy leave the ring defeated and ashamed while the woman left the ring while being booed and cursed.

"Men have grown too complacent and have forgotten that war is not a game to play at" Aaron said as he watched a dwarf and one of his former cell-mates, the elf from the alienage, enter the ring.

"You understand this better than most men. My men are prepared to lay down their lives for the good of the realm, but it's as you say" Duncan began to look around the yard.

"These are the children of peace and the kings men are not ready. They will fight, they will bleed, and most will die" Duncan said as he felt disappointment build up in his throat.

"Is that why you pulled me out of my cell Lord Commander? Am I here to limit our countrymen's casualties?" Aaron asked as he watched the dwarf shove the pummel of his sword into the elf's stomach and knock the poor boy off his feet and into the dirt.

"I have brought you here for many reasons Aaron and one of those reasons is waiting for us at the top of the King's Tower" Duncan said as he gestured for Aaron to follow him back towards the wall of Ostagar.

"So I am here to sweeten the king for you am I?" Aaron said as follows close behind Duncan.

"Yes" the commander's voice was very dry yet somehow sweet when he spoke.

"You are an old friend of the King, a trusted friend, a good friend, and one of the last few he can trust" Duncan had lead Aaron to a stable where two horses were waiting for them, both saddled and ready to ride.

"That may change once Loghain reveals my treachery to him" Aaron slipped his foot into one of the holds and swung his foot over the horse and on to the saddle while Duncan did the same.

"Perhaps not, you are a hero to the people and champion to the king" Duncan had to manoeuvre his horse around cart while Aaron had to urge his own around a dog.

"The king thinks highly of you Aaron. He speaks of your many great deeds" Duncan was suddenly interrupted by Aaron.

"He speaks of all heroes' that way. My old friend loves to paint the brightest and great of portraits of famous men but fails to see the whole truth" Aaron said as he pictured Cailan actually painting a picture of him.

"I have stood by the king since his ascension to the throne and I love the fool as a brother but he is glory seeking fool" Aaron's voice cracked like a whip but his tone refused to reveal much emotion.

"I am overjoyed that your friendship with the king does not blind you from one of his greatest faults" Duncan said as he looked up to the great wall that towered hundreds of feet above the camp.

"We have fought three battles and we have won three victories but we were lucky" Duncan said as he moved his horse onto a smoother, more open, path and gestured for Aaron to ride beside him.

"Our luck has run its course and my scouts inform me the bulk of the horde prepares to march from the deep to meet us on the feild" Duncan said as he cast his gaze up to the great wall of Ostagar.

"Then is this a _true_ blight?" Aaron asked as his eyes fell upon the wall and then the mage began to wonder if the wall would hold.

To the east and west of the Ostagar there is nothing but a range of mountains. To the east the mountains stretch past the Hinterlands Forest and into the Brolians rivers and swamps, and into the west the mountains reach as far as Brecilian Pass or _Halam Elehen Elgar_, **The end of the Elvin Spirit.**

"Have the Wardens or Dwarfs noticed any of the Darkspawn burrowing beneath the wall?" Aaron asked as he began to recall the tragic tale of the **Dalish Revolt** that occurred during the **Glory Age**.

"By the will of the Maker they have not. The Dwarves have been more than willing to share their secrets of their Thaigs with his majesty during this war, and to our relief we have discovered that there no Thaigs beneath this wall" Duncan explained as a puzzled expression appeared on Aaron's face.

"Then that would mean the darkspawn had to have dug their way beyond the wall, further south" Aaron said as he began to wonder how long it would have taken a whole darkspawn horde to dig so far south, but the mage preferred not to know.

"Yes. We have no idea how far the horde reaches beyond the wall but many consider themselves lucky that the wall is standing in their way" Duncan said with no sign of relief in his voice.

"This troubles you Lord Commander. The darkspawn have been caged in, if they move east they will have to cross the river-lands and swamps. If they are caught there, it would take the horde weeks to work through it, and if they move west the forest will slow them as well and they will have to face the southern Lords" Aaron said as he began to consider each route that an army could possibly take to march around the wall.

"You are correct Ser Aaron. No matter what route the darkspawn take they will face perils, but keep in mind Aaron that the army we face is not normal" Duncan explained while Aaron's attention became completely focused on his Commander.

"The Darkspawn do not think or act the way a solider would and they do not lead like a King or Commander. They lack discipline but they make up for that in pure force. They do not care who they kill, what city they sack, or what kingdom they are in. All the horde can think about is killing and destroying" Aaron suddenly felt like a fool once again.

The mage was so dead set in his habits that he forgot he was not facing a normal enemy.

"Then how do we stop the darkspawn army. If the legends are true, all that must be done is to slay an Arch-demon" Aaron suddenly heard a woman scream but when he turned his head to find the source of the shriek all he saw was a man entering a tent with a beautiful woman following after him.

"The demon has not revealed its presence to us yet. While I believe this to be a true Blight there are many in Calian's court who believe this horde to be a simple darkspawn raid" Duncan voice suddenly became tense with anger and his grip on the horse's reigns grew tighter.

"Is that why I'm here? Am I to keep the King from retreating from this battle?" Aaron asked.

"Yes and to convince him to deny Loghain's course of action and allow the Orlesian to join his cause" Aaron began to chuckle after he heard what Duncan said.

"Forgive me Lord Commander but I would have a better chance convincing Qunari to abandon his faith" Aaron heard laughter and saw that it was Duncan who was laughing.

"Perhaps" Duncan said as he brought his horse to a halt and Aaron did the same.

"I know I am asking a lot out of you so Ser Aaron but make no mistake this is a Blight and there are foul deeds conspiring in the shadows" Duncan had begun to whisper once again.

"What conspiracy do you speak of Commander?" Aaron asked his voice growing low and stern and just as Duncan was about to open his mouth he suddenly closed it and his eyes and let out a deep sigh.

"We will speak of that later. Right now I need you to go to the tower and await my return. I need to do one more thing" Duncan said as concern spread across his fast and that was enough for Aaron to know that he should pursue Duncan with his questions.

"As you wish, Lord Commander, I shall wait for you at the tower" Aaron said as he bowed to his lord. Duncan suddenly galloped off into the east towards the other side of the valley while Aaron wasted no time making his way to the Castle. Upon arrival however, the mage wished he had not come alone.

There were seven in count. There were six templar's in silver armor that glimmered in the morning sun and each stood side by side.

Each Templar stood at attention, feet together, left hands grasped around spears, and right arms hidden behind heavy metal shields.

Each knight looked more intimating then the other but the mage did not fear the Templar's or their order. Hiding beneath each visor was the face of a man, not a god or a demon, but a man and all men die.

Aaron was unprepared for this however. Never in his life has he had to face so many Templar's and these men were not ordinary Templers, by the markings on their chests and shields they were of the elite guard.

"Aaron Amell" a tall man stepped forward, his face hidden behind steel.

"Please step down from your horse and hand over all your weapons" his left arm tilted forward and the edge of the steel was aimed at Aaron's neck, and at the templar's' command Aaron stepped down off his horse and passed its reigns to a stable boy.

Like trained hunters, the templars' slowly moved closer towards Aaron, encircling him treating him as if he were a frighten stag.

"Aaron Amell, we of the Templar Order have been ordered to place you under arrest" Aaron took a step forward and like a frighten pup the leader and his men jumped and raised their shields.

"On whose authority?" Aaron asked as he felt a cold chill run up his spine as he watched a beauty of a woman step out from the castle.

Aaron felt a lump in his throat as he watched the Revered Mother walk before him. Aaron knew this woman well; her hair was a glimmering chestnut color, she had brilliant golden eyes, fair skin, and a slender, graceful figure.

No man alive could deny her beauty but Aaron did as she stepped past her Templars who suddenly held their weapons at attention.

"Greetings Ser Amell" the rare beauty bowed to the Battle-Mage with a beautiful smile that Aaron knew to be false.

"I bid you greetings Revered Mother, I pray that the Maker smile upon you during these troubling times" kindness and courtesy was a mages best weapon against the men and women who hated them, but these gestures Aaron offered to the mother did little good on his behalf as she chuckled.

"Time certainly hasn't changed you. Please favor me this day and spare me your false lies. Men like you always lie" the mother of the chantry studied the hood figure before her and she held nothing but disgust on her face. Aaron knew there was no longer a point in holding his false persona.

"There are no men like me, milady" his voice became as cold as the southern wind.

"Indeed, you have proven that many times over but there is one common trait you share with your fellow man dear Aaron" her false smile began to irritate Aaron as he coughed and let out a small chuckle.

"And what trait is that milady?" Her golden eyes narrowed.

"Once a liar always al liar" she was mocking Aaron and the mage could hardly stand for it.

"You name me a liar when you tell lies yourself. Pray tell me Revered Mother how many of these Lords and Nobles know the truth?" Aaron seemed to have grown taller and stronger as he spoke but the mother did not fear the mage.

"Do not speak in riddles Aaron you have never been good at them" the smile had finally vanished and bitterness had finally settled in. The beauty of Ferelden's chantry had placed her arms in her sleeves and began to fiddle with her fingers as she concealed them from Aaron's gaze.

"Then allow me to speak plainly then, your church captured the wrong man, you have condemned the wrong man, and you are still punishing the wrong man" Aaron's words had cut like a butchers cleaver.

"Still protesting our innocence are we? Don't deny it any longer Amell everyone knows you for a traitor and murder" the mother was not surprised by Aaron's voice and action, while every Templar stood in disbelief.

"Then may the world know you for a whore and a cheat because that's what you are Illiara" Aaron had to resist the urge to reach out and slap the laughter off that damn woman's lips, but when the her Templar's rallied behind her Aaron knew what game the bitch was playing.

"Enough Aaron you have been judged and now you must be punished. Arrest this traitor and bind him in chains. He shall make an appearance before the Divine herself. You will be punished you for what you are Aaron" Illiara said as she waved her hand and ordered two of her Templar's to take Aaron prisoner.

"Now I may not be the sharpest pike in the barrel but is it wise to arrest the king's best friend, while being surrounded by his army?" The sarcastic crack of a man's voice suddenly appeared from horseback as a young knight, same age as Aaron, trotted up to the stable and looked down on the Revered Mother and her six escorts.

"Am I wrong sister? After this is the great Aaron Amell he will be needed during the eve of battle" Illiara only smiled and listened to the knight's sarcasm as she watched the handsome youth step down off his horse.

"No man alive can deny the will of the Maker, not even a king" Illiara said her voice as cold as the Ferelden wind.

"Very true Milady but if the maker willed it so badly then this man would not be standing here before us now would he" the man said as he gave Aaron a pat on the back, and just before Illiara could speak out again the Knight spoke first.

"In fact I don't believe the Maker wants this one just yet, no-no-no, he needs him to make the ultimate sacrifice and join the sacred order of the Grey Wardens" a joke had suddenly turned into a fact as anger flared in Illiara's eyes.

"The murderer has claimed sanctuary by taking the Grey. How disappointing. Tell me" Illiara's eyes shifted away from Aaron's and on to the Knight's smug face "to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking too?" All humour had vanished from the man's eyes as he placed his right arm across his chest and bowed to the Revered Mother.

"I am the Warden-Constable, Alistair of Redcliff; it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Revered Mother Illiara" all humor had vanished from Alistair as he stood up straight once again and faced the Revered Mother.

"Ah, a boy from the _blood mines_ how typical" Illiara's crafty smile appeared once again as she shook her head back and forth.

"My dear Warden you may believe that you are of great importance in your strange little world, but in reality you are still nothing" furry cracked like thunder as Illiara jabbed her finger into the air and aimed it at Aaron.

"This man is a traitor to the church and to the Maker himself. God demands justice and he shall receive it. Take them" with the authority of god himself Illiara commanded her Templar's to arrest Aaron, and the mage did not resist. Aaron was brought to his knees and his arms were put behind his back.

"Reverend Mother I would advise against this" Alistair's voice became very firm all of sudden while his attitude became as hard as stone.

"The Warden's are a great and ancient order. To go against us is to against your own beliefs and the beliefs of the Maker" Alistair cast his gaze down at Aaron, whose face remained empty of all emotions.

"After all, the Maker has cast a sad smile upon the Warden's because no sacrifice is greater than our own. Release this man at once as all his past sins have been forgiven" the Templar's suddenly loosened their grip on Aaron as they began to realize, and remember, that when someone takes the Grey all past crimes truly are forgiven.

"He has not taken his vows just yet so his crimes are still unforgiving" Illiara was about to make one more command when she suddenly heard three horses arrive at the castle gate and stable.

"What is the meaning of this!" Duncan asked as he looked down at his second in command for answers.

"Lord Commander, the Revered Mother has come to arrest one our own" Alistair quickly saluted his commanding officer while bowing his head. The Commander of the Grey and his two Senior Warden's stepped down off their horses.

"You have overstepped your boundaries Revered Mother. This man is no prisoner of yours as all his past sins have been forgiven the moment he took the Grey" Duncan had more courage than most men, as he approached the mother and stood before the young beauty, towering over the woman by a half a foot.

"The traitor kneels to my men and to the Maker. He accepts his punishment" Illiara said as she extended her hand and gestured at her prisoner, who had kneeled in horse shit.

"He kneels because he knows no better!" Alistair had raised his voice as in anger as he pushed the Templar's away from Aaron and helped the wizard to his feet.

"Do you not see his crest?" Alistair placed his hand on the battle-mages black shoulder guard and showed the priestess the sigil of the Maker.

"A Mage of the Circle is taught to succumb to the will of the Templar Order" Alistair said as he began to feel foolish for dragging Aaron like a child's plaything.

"Then praise be to the maker, the sinner knows his place in life" Illiara said as she felt the cold steel of a Commander's gauntlet strike the left side of her face.

"Be reminded of your place mother" Duncan could feel the glares of all the Templar's pierce his armor but not his soul, the commander of the Grey does not scare so easily, and he refuses to stand for insolence.

Illiara tasted blood in her mouth and then she tasted satisfaction.

"The Chantry will hear of your hierarchy Lord Commander. I am a light, the light that shines away the darkness" Illiara's metaphor was a pathetic attempt at shock and awe.

"And I am the shield that protects you from the beasts that hide in darkness" Duncan said as he watched a small smile creep onto the young girls red lushes lips.

"Withdraw," Illiara raised her hand and her Templars dogs returned to her side "this is not over Lord Commander. This man will suffer for his crimes and sins, and I will see to that personally" a cold stare followed after a cold voice. Illiara lead her men through the castle door, all six Templars standing in two rows of three, and even when Illiara was gone Aaron, Duncan, and Alistair could still feel a cold chill in the air.

Aaron was used to that feeling.

All his life he had been forced to deal with the cruelty of others and Illiara's cold was no different, but it was different once.

Long ago she was once warm and kind.

"Are you hurt?" Duncan asked as he approached his newest recruit, looking him once over.

"Of course not Milord and I am grateful for your help, but I have succumbed to harsher trials" Aaron said as he adjusts his gauntlets and armour.

"So I have heard but I wish to push this moment aside, we have a war to plan and a blight to end. Come all of you, it's time to meet the King's Council" Duncan said as he pushed forward with his men quick at his heels.

All five Wardens' entered the castle in great haste, pushing aside all soldiers who stood in their path. The journey to the tallest tower of Ostagar's castle was a long one but it was a longer journey with war on the horizon.

As Aaron scaled the many stairs inside Ostagar he began to recall an old, and ancient, verse he heard while tutoring in the Circle.

The Wall of Ostagar was a very curious place, built upon mystery and myths.

The grand wall was originally built by the dwarves long before the ages, this much Thedas knew, but the question as to why it was built remained unanswered.

It was believed that the children of the stone were contracted by the old Imperium to build a grand wall during the Imperium's aggressive expansion south of Thedas.

Legends tell that during the Ancient Era the Imperium waged a losing war against the united barbarian tribes of old Ferelden.

Against the hard winds of Ferelden and her harden warriors the Magisters proved weak and feeble, the Magisters only had one hope for victory.

As a final resort against the barbarian tribes, the Tevinter Magisters resorted to powerful Blood Magic that pushed the tribes south beyond the Southern Valley.

For decades the dwarves of ancient Thaigs carved a mighty wall from the stone of the mountains surrounding them. Soon the Great Wall of Ostagar was built, standing four hundred feet tall and stretching as far as five miles.

The wall was sectioned off into three parts, the lower half of the wall was crafted of solid stone and earth and only encased a dozen, massive, staircases for men and women to enter and exit.

In the centre of the lowered wall was a massive gate that stood fifty feet high and one mile wide and from what Aaron could remember about the gate, the dwarves had created a complex pulley system for the doors that allowed only twenty men to open and close it in a matter of minutes.

The second section of the wall was hollowed out and was built with many rooms. Each room in the wall had its own unique purpose.

One room in the wall was specially crafted by the dwarves to always remain cool and damp, for meats and drink, while another room was crafted to remain dry and warm for grain and supplies.

The remaining rooms were built for accommodations during grand sieges, but there was one section of the wall that had been hollowed out for one very special service.

As Aaron entered the second half of the wall he immediately knew why the dwarves had hollowed out such a huge part of the wall.

Above the gate there were many windows and narrows slits to see out of. During the Ancient Era Aaron knew the Tevinter used these windows to cast their spells from a safe distance, but now Aaron's king was using the windows for arrows, crossbows, and ballista's.

Soon Aaron had followed Duncan, Alasitar and two senior wardens to the top of the wall, the third and final section of Ostagar. The top of the wall was a sight very few men in Thedas were able to behold, the journey up had taken so long that the sun had begun to set. The giant orb touched the edge of the world and colored the sky a bright orange and dark red.

Aaron had averted his gaze from the sky and placed his attention on the back of Duncan's skull as he followed his lord Commander, and as Aaron walked he prayed a silent prayer to his Maker.

Aaron had thanked God for not letting him walk a whole five miles across the wall. Of course Aaron had no problem walking that far, but with so many men, catapults, and ballistae were lined up on the white wall the mage feared someone might fall off.

However, Aaron might have just been over thinking things. The wall was built so thick that a dozen horsemen could gallop along the wall and still have room to spare, but instead of horses there were men and women.

Each of them running and preparing for the battle by gathering rocks for the catapults to fling and for men to drop.

Giant's arrows were being piled into barrels for the archers and the ballistae.

Aaron felt uneasy again, not from the height like before, but by the chaos of the men running around him.

So many were scared and frighten and to a battle-mage fear was a powerful sword that many soldiers fell upon while charging the battlefield or walking in their camp.

A Dalish elf ran past the wardens as swift as a halla and nearly tripped over a rope left by a catapult. Aaron feared for the elf's life but as the boy began to slip a dwarf suddenly grasped the lad by his arm and helped the boy balance himself.

"I thought you forest folk had balance up here! Be careful next time" the old dwarf yelled while the elf bowed his head in thanks.

"It's so nice to see everyone working together. I guess you can say that's the only good thing a Blight can do, it can bring bickering worlds together" Alistair chuckled as he slowed his pace so that he could walk beside Aaron.

"I have no idea how to respond to that. It sounds horrible but it is so obvious to see" Aaron said as he felt a strong gust of wind blow past him, pushing his hood back and revealing his face to the world.

The mage did not care though, he enjoyed it actually, so many months in a cell deprives of man of the small joys in life.

"So I hear that you are the infamous Aaron Amell, is that true? The Champion of Ferelden?" Alistair asked as Aaron felt his joy turn to ash.

"You ask a pointless question Constable. You knew who I was the day your Commander dragged me from my cell" Alistair felt the cold strike of Aaron's voice.

It had reminded the Warden-Constable of an Orlais Chevaliers and of the Templar order.

During the war these gallant knights were silent, strong, and thought only of the war ahead of them. Alistair wondered if the battle-mage had a lighter side to him.

"Very true but I like to take the time to get to know my brothers of the Grey" Alistair said as he brushed past a boy lighting torch, being careful as not to touch the flame.

Aaron took a quick glance of Alistair from the corner of his eye but quickly faced forward again because a swift glance was all Aaron had needed.

Alistair was young, most likely the same age as Aaron, five to his twentieth. He was very tall and strong; he towered at six feet and had the build of a well trained knight.

Alistair had deep brown eyes and short brown hair with a touch of gold mingled in.

His face was smooth and slightly tan.

The armor he wore was of brown and copper plates, his sword was tied to his side and while Aaron could not see the steel he could see the warden's hilt.

It was a fine piece of work at one point but years of battle had changed its shape.

A Griffions head was shaped on the pummel of his hilt and the grip was made of dark faded leather.

The cross guard was forged of steel and coated with gold but time had caused the gold to fade and to chip away. However, for all its wear and tare Aaron could sense powerful magic coming from the blade. That much power could only mean that the blade was enchanted and very powerful.

Aaron was able to spot Alistar's shield as well, kite shaped, and it appeared brand new.

The man had obviously respected the wardens because another griffon was painted on his shield, or perhaps the Grey Warden's had made demands that they're men bare their sigil.

"Very good man of Redcliff, what do you wish to know?" Aaron asked as he watched another boy light a torch.

"So where dose the fable hero hail from?" Alistair asked as he suddenly heard a sudden twang

"Kirkwall" the answer was short and swift.

"Ah a man of the Free Marches and how long have you served under the Circle?" Alistair asked as he watched four men test the launching capability of a catapult.

The twang of the rope echoed in the air for a moment and once the sound died down Aaron cleared his throat and spoke once again.

"For seventeen years" Aaron began to cough and suddenly he had to spit, green spit flew from his lips and went over the wall.

"How long did you serve the Templar's?" Aaron enjoyed the smile that appeared on Alistair's face.

It wasn't a smile of joy it was a smile of distress.

For a brief moment Aaron thought he could read the lad's thoughts "Oh no you found me out do you hate me now too?" but Alistair said nothing. The only sound the handsome youth made was the clearing of his throat.

"Don't worry, I was once a Battle-mage of the Circle. I've fought alongside hundred's of Templar's. It was my duty and it's a duty I will gladly carry on with you Constable" Aaron could hear that laughter again, a barrier that hide the truth and created lies.

"Well I am pleased to hear you say that, but I assure you I am no Templar" Alistair laughed a nervous chuckle really.

"And how is that ser?" The game had switched now it was Aaron who was asking the questions.

"I did train as a Templar but I was recruited about five years ago, just before I made my final vows" the castle was drawing near.

"Who recruited you? Was it Commander Duncan?" Aaron asked as he suddenly notices the nervous smile fade off Alistair's face and transform into a real genuine smile.

"Indeed he did, just like you" Alistair said.

"Aye, he's a good man. A better man than most" Aaron has seen many castles and forts in his life, but none could ever compare to what he saw today.

Engraved into the mountain, above the wall of Ostagar, was the Magisters Keep some commoners even took to calling it the Gray Keep.

The Magisters Keep was a grand castle etched from the mountain side, decorated with the images and statues of the Old Ones.

It stood upon an outer wall and an inner wall. Aaron could only see three towers above those walls but the mage knew each tower by name.

The tallest was the King's Tower and it stood above all and could see all, in previous years it housed the greatest of the Tevinter general's, but now the tower currently houses the king and the kings men.

The second tower stood to the right of the king's tower and if history remained true Aaron knew this tower to once house the Old Gods worshippers, and now it is a place of worship for the Chantry and god's men. The final tower stood in the far right and as small as the tower was in height, it stood the strongest. The tower was merely a watch tower with an open roof, where slaves of the highest rank slept, but now guards and watchmen sleep inside its tower.

"Aye he is one of the best" Alistair said drawing Aaron's attention from the Gray Castle and its walls as they crossed the drawbridge that hung over the spike pit below.

"What did you do to be saved?" Alistair asked as he listened to his boots clang against the wood below his feet.

"A tale for another time" Aaron said as he followed Duncan, and his fellow Grey Warden's, through the gate and into the yard.

The Wardens were suddenly greeted by twenty of Loghain's armed men and Loghain himself.

The old man's face did not change since the last Duncan saw him; the man remained angry and cold to all who approached him.

"Teyrn Loghain" Duncan bowed to the Teyrn of the South "forgive me for being late. My men and I ran into trouble at the foot of the wall" Duncan explained as he stood up straight and faced the pale skin Teyrn.

"Yes, I heard one of your men had some nasty business with a lady of the Chantry" Loghain said as he looked past the bronze Warden and focused on the hood mage who stood behind him.

"You should learn to keep your men in line Lord Commander. Should your mage act out once again I will be forced to bind him in chains" Loghain said nothing more as he gave the mage one final glare and turned his back on the Grey Wardens.

"I beg your pardon M'lord?" Duncan word blew into the wind, as Loghain marched away, and fell upon a woman who quickly approached Duncan.

"Lord Commander at the command on Teyrn Loghain I demand you relieve yourself of all your weapons and place them into my care" the knight was very firm and very beautiful, shiny coppery hair, pale white skin, eyes as clear as ocean waters, and smooth lips.

Aaron took the knight to be a lord's daughter, the youngest possibly, who took the honours of a knight because she had no where else to go.

Aaron was speculating however, the mage had no inside information on the mistress and he prayed he never will.

By the look of her sword, a great beast of a blade, and her arms Aaron knew this knight to be a great warrior.

"At your comfort M'lady" Duncan said as he agreed to unbuckle the weapons on this side, and with little resistant Duncan's fellow Warden's agreed, but not Aaron.

How could a mage give up his weapon?

A Battle-Mage is a weapon and before Aaron could mention this to Duncan Aaron watched two men, two Templar men, step out from the ranks of Loghain's guard and approach Duncan.

Annoyance nipped at Aaron's heels as he watched the two old farts approach his new commander with words of warning and caution's about the evils of mages and magic.

"Lord Commander at the behest of my Teyrn he insists that these two escort the criminal Aaron to the war council" the beautiful knight had extended her left arm to introduce the two old men who approached.

To Aaron they were no different than any other Ferelden, Templar, or soldier. The men were twins and to the best of Aaron's knowledge these men were once the low born children of a noble, who had no need for them, and they were forced to take the oath of the Order.

Both men were well into their forties, and their hair was showing it, both born with thick brown hair with touches of grey and white mingled in with it.

The brothers had pointed chins; one brother had a dimple while the other brother had a scar where his once was.

Both brothers had green eyes however; one brother looked as if he was going blind. _'Lyrim poisoning most likely or perhaps fire'_ Aaron could not tell what had done the damage.

On one final note Aaron took from the men was their armor, while both mail were heavy and appeared standard in the order, there was something special about the armor. Aaron could feel the magic emanating from both of them; the armor had been enchanted by its creator.

"These men are Demi and Linn. Do you have any objections Lord Commander?" the knight's voice did not shift or move, it had remained the same throughout the conversation and the Warden-Commander took that as a warning.

The lady was well disciplined as well.

"I see little choice in the matter" Duncan spoke as he watched the knight bow her head and turn her back on the Warden's.

"Then follow me. The war council has already begun"


	4. The War Council

Notes: Hello everyone and welcome back to anther thrilling chapter of Dragon Age. I am so sorry for the late update. I have been having a rough couple weeks with work and home life. A lot of crap has gone down over the last week but I managed to finish editing the fourth chapter of Dragon Age: Revelations – The War Council and I hope everyone enjoys it. Also if anyone cares to know I have also finished uploading a new chapter for my second Fanfic A Song of Ice and Fire: Falling Snow.

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**Dragon Age: Revelations**

**By: aadpeters23**

The War Council

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"What kind of nug runt strategy is that!" a fist had slammed against a table and echoed in the hallway. It was a simple sign of anger and strength that had to be shown to those who were weak or otherwise foolish.

"It appears they started without us" Alistair whispered as he and Aaron followed Duncan down the dim light hallway in the King's Tower. Armed soldiers lined the hall and each stood at attention, ready to strike when ordered.

"If we march out beyond the gate we would expose ourselves, our armies to the Darkspawns arrows, magic, and catapults!" A bright light shined out of the doorway as the Warden's followed Loghain's Captain into the tower hearth. Aaron felt a great amount of relief as he felt the warmth of a fire wash over him.

"You humans and elves think of these beasts to be nothing more than savage animals, but they are smarter than you let yourselves believe" Aaron could see that it was a young dwarf who was yelling, a young man with a round nose and brown eyes. The dwarf's skin was oddly pale and his hair was light brown, a color that reminded Aaron of a packing mule, and the young dwarf had a small braided beard that matched his hair color.

"Foolish dwarf you talk as if these beasts are a true threat" a Ferelden Noble spoke and Aaron recognized Arlessa Gladens, the Bitch of the South, a middle age woman with golden hair, pale skin, and lush red lips. The Arlessa was gowned in a red silk dress that appeared far too tight for her fitting.

"They attack, they eat, and they kill. They have no natural instinct to speak of, but please believe what you will my prince" the Arlessa was no different from any other noble Aaron met in Ferelden, she was quick, strong, and showed no mercy.

"Show your respect she-bitch, I am the third son of the House Aeducan!" suddenly Aaron knew the dwarf to be Prince Bhelen Aeducan.

The prince was a dwarf Aaron had never met or seen before but he did read many tales about him. The prince was a visionary, who dreamed of expanding surface trade with Orzammar and the prince was outspoken individual against the Dwarven Assembly.

Most say he is a cur of a son, who simply desired his father's throne, but the prince was the third and youngest, son of the King of Orzammar. The dwarf had no right's to throne while his brother lived, but if the rumors from Merchant Guild could be believed, it would seem that the king under the mountain will return his rule back to the Assembly and let the people rule themselves.

That thought gave Aaron a headache. Dwarves were notorious traditionalist and if the King were to return power back over to the assembly chaos would truly reign in the under cities of Orzammar.

"Hold your tongue you fool! You are not Orzammar's commander" another pale dwarf, an older image of Bhelen with white hair, shouted his voice thick with anger. The Prince shrank back into his seat after he looked his senior directly in the eye and remind silent at his father's command.

Soon Aaron's small party was fully encased by the room and its occupants. The hearth was large and had much room to spare, aside from the large circular table that sat in its center. The room had six mighty fire pits and chimneys that raced all the way to the ceiling and beyond.

The room had been decorated with stainless glass, colorful pictures of Ferelden's colorful history and to Aaron's delight food and drink had been provided during the council. Many foods were scattered about the table, roasted pig, boiled onions, and so much more.

It became very quiet as thirty different heads turned and looked at the Warden's. Aaron quickly counted eighteen humans, ten male and eight female, six Dalish Keepers, four men and two women, and finally four dwarfs, all men.

Cailan sat on the far end of the table with Loghain sitting to his right and with four empty chairs to his left. A large smile appeared on the king's face as he looked up at the Warden's.

"My friends, we thought you were lost" the king laughed as he rose from his chair, no longer wearing his golden armor, but instead a white tunic with red shoulder pads laced with golden hounds.

"Forgive us your grace, we were delayed by a peculiar circumstance" Duncan said as he bowed once again, a common trait for a Commander of the Grey, Aaron thought.

For a brief second Aaron watched a smirk appear on Illiara's face. The young Mother was sitting beside Ferelden's Grand Cleric and Knight-Commander, two powerful leaders Aaron had prayed not to see.

"Truly, we have to discuss that later but for now please take your seats at my sides and join us in our feast and discussions" the King had walked around the table and placed his arm around Duncan's shoulder and began to guide the dark skin man to his seat.

"Thank you your grace" Duncan stuttered, shocked by how forward the king was being.

"Pardon me you grace" the grand cleric spoke up as the four Wardens' took their seats, while the twins Demi and Linn took there place behind Aaron.

"Yes Grand Cleric is something troubling you?" the king asked as he took his seat and began to pour Duncan a glass of wine.

"It has recently come to my knowledge that we have an Apostate sitting here amongst us" an elderly woman, with skin as wrinkled as an Antiva raisin, said as her gaze fell upon Aaron.

"I have heard of this as well" the Knight-Commander Geriogar, leader of Ferelden's Templar's, said as he began to drum his fingers against the round table. His heated gaze also fell upon Aaron as both eyes pierced through the flame of candle light and across the table and began to burn a hole in Aaron's breastplate.

"Really, and who might this Apostate be?" Cailan asked as he leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his Antivin wine. A small groan rippled around the table, apparently the war council knew of Aaron's coming.

"Your grace do not act so blindly to the threat that sits at your council" the Grand Cleric said as she gestured her hand over in Aaron's direction, who had finally decided to bow his head and further hide his face.

"This man is criminal of the church and he" the Grand Cleric was suddenly interrupted by the king.

"And he is a member of Ferelden's Grey Wardens, free of all past crimes and sins" the king enjoyed the taste of his wine and the taste of furry that came from the Grand Cleric.

"Cailan please" Loghain whispered.

"Grand Cleric this man is still a Hero, no matter his crimes, and will be treated as such in my court. Can you find it your heart to tolerate such a thing?" Cailan asked such a simple question but from the look the Grand Cleric was giving him it would appear the king had asked her to undress herself before the court.

"I will not turn a blind eye to such filth" the Grand Cleric struggled to yell but time had weaken voice.

"Nor will I, your grace I demand this creature be taken from this court and burned for his crimes!" the Knight-Commander stood and slammed his fist against the table, a sign of strength and brutality.

The king however, was unmoved by such actions.

"Then I would advise both mother and commander to leave this room at once" the King rose and waved his hand over for his guards to march in.

"What?" the Grand Cleric was speechless but she did have enough room in her throat for one more word.

"You will leave this court in the hands of those who wish to battle the Blight, should you wish to join us then you must push aside your petty concerns and leave this man be!" now the king was yelling, but he did not bang his fist against the table. No, the king delivered on his threat as two guards appeared behind the hounds of the Chantry.

"Grand Cleric, perhaps we can put aside our difference for the moment. The Blight is the true enemy here, is it not?" Illiara asked in a sweet tender voice that began to melt the icy hearts of every man and woman in the room. Aaron felt a twinge of anger flare in his chest as he watched Illiara bat her eyes to the room, bending each man and woman to her will.

The sight reminded Aaron of an age where he once fell for such a look, but now the mage held no love in his heart. Duty, honor, and justice were the only things on his mind right now.

"Of course my dear, such a sweet girl, always seeing the good even though there is none" the Grand Cleric gave Aaron an icy glare but Aaron's black armor some how neutralized the Grand Cleric's gaze as she suddenly appeared frightened.

"As you wish your majesty we will abide by your request and let this matter pass for the moment" the old woman's hot temper suddenly vanished and was replaced by a gentle, old woman, who appeared weak and helpless.

"As will I, but my templar's will remain to keep a close eye on this boy" the old gray hair commander barely shot Aaron a glance but when the old man did Aaron noticed the look was no different from the Grand Clerics. Soon looks were being exchanged all around the room and Aaron was its center. Every man and woman gave the mage a sharp look, or glare of hatred, and it infuriated Aaron.

"Then let us continue" the king addressed his court as he sat up straight in his chair and assumed the posture that be fit a king.

"Then I shall continue where I had left off" Bhelon said before his father held up his hand and silence his son.

"I will hear no more from you boy! Take your seat and say no more!" the king of the dwarves spoke with the authority of his people and with a scowl the kings son took his seat by his father and by a dwarf Aaron took to be one of the Endrin's three sons.

"Now milady" the king of dwarves soften his tone as he leaned forward in his chair "what my idiot son is saying is true. I fear you know nothing of these demons. On the outside they may appear barbaric and disfigured" the way the dwarf king spoke it would appear he was dishonoring himself. Dwarves were a proud race of miners, crafters, and warriors. If Aaron had not seen it he would have not believed it, a dwarf had held his tongue and was giving patience to a woman who would sooner kill him than understand him.

"But I swear by the honor of my house that these demons act on a simplistic instinct that replicates an animal. They hide your trees like they do in caves" the dwarf king's eyes appeared frightful and filled with dread, the room suddenly grew quiet, and Aaron could hear the fear in the old king's words.

"They look monstrous and stupid but that is just a ploy," Aaron could fear the dwarf kings fingers drum across the table "they are clever. The darkspawn will hide in the darkness and they will wait there for however long it takes" the kings eyes suddenly darted across the table as he licked his lips.

"They will wait and wait until someone makes a mistake and that is all they need. With one mistake even a grand army can fall before the darkspawn as prey" the color vanished from his skin and for a moment the great king of the Orzammar appeared as a ghost.

"You underestimate our armies your grace" Loghain said as lifted his wine glass to his lips and took a small sip.

"Ferelden's armies are well armed and trained. These simple creatures will not force our hands" Loghain held up his golden chalice and awaited his squire to appear and pour him more.

"I don't think you understand, what darkspawn lack in intelligence they make up for in cruelty and instinct" another dwarf spoke, older than Bhelon but younger than the king.

An elvin Keeper groaned in annoyance, a young man with golden hair, and quickly raised his voice for the council to hear.

"Speak your mind dwarf! We have little time for riddles and theatrics. Just tell these fools what you know so we can be off with this pointless folly!" Aaron took note that this elf was younger than she truly appeared. No one, with any common sense, would dare raise his voice against nobility. However, the Dalish were of a simple culture where all are looked upon and treated fairly.

'_What is mine is also yours' _a voice chirped in the back of Aaron's mind as he took a grape from his plate and placed it in his mouth. Slowly biting into its sweet texture admiring a flavor he had almost forgot. While doing so a thought had appeared in Aaron's head. This Dalish elf was wearing the same armor the Dalish warrior was wearing in the fighting pit at the Warden encampment.

"Hold your tongue knife ear! You speak to the Leader of the Stone; he leads our armies and is the son of our king! Show respect or taste the ball of my mace!" Bhelon yelled as he rose from his chair, knocking the wooden piece to the floor, and quickly reached for the weapon that was not tied to his side. The prince suddenly looked the fool reaching for air and Aaron could hear Alistair chuckling beside him, and for what reason the mage had no idea.

The sight seemed bone chilling. A beauty among elves and a shamed prince were glaring at one another from across the room, and soon everyone felt uneasy.

"Put away your anger Prince Bhelon and hide your pride Lyna. You speak amongst friends, any attempt at life, honor, or pride will not be tolerated here beneath my roof" Cailan spoke with the power of a king again.

"So tread carefully my friends. One more folly and I will have you removed from this room and you will no longer receive my services!" pride was suddenly swallowed and put aside as Bhelon picked up his chair and Lynda cast her gaze to the floor, her golden locks concealing her face.

"Forgive me your grace, I am young and foolish, but I demand that you speak your mind. Lives are at stake and wish for you to get to the point" Lyna kept her eyes focused on the wooden table, refusing to meet the eyes of Orzammar's commander.

"The fault lye's with me Lady Lyna, forgive me for not speaking plainly" the commander spoke with tongue of a noble and with the patience of a saint.

"What I mean is this. The darkspawn have everything they need to wait us out. They have an endless supply of...of," the commander suddenly seemed distraught by a painful thought "of meat, they will not starve, the darkspawn also have an endless supply of manpower, and above all they have patience" now the commander spoke as if he were a philosopher.

"They have nothing but patience for our kind. With so much at their disposal all they have to do is wait for our supplies to dwindle, wait for soldiers to abandon their post's, and exploit our weakness" once again a dark truth fell upon the room, an unspoken truth, that strengthened the fear of every man and woman at the war council.

Aaron took note that even his old friend was afraid but Aaron and his brothers showed no fear.

Aaron showed no fear because he was trained not to be afraid but his brothers already knew this truth and have accepted it.

"You speak madness!" Bann Rodilf, a plump old man with broad shoulder's and thick arms, quickly spoke up and consumed everyone's attention.

"You talk as if we are cut off from our supplies and that we are doomed to starve. Did you forget that my castle lies just three days from here, or that Gwaren is just to the east no more than twelve days ride" the old man cheeks turned a bright red as he spoke, and while the Bann was not as portly as most nobles Aaron could to wonder if this man could even ride to his own castle.

"I'm afraid you're over looking the manpower the Darkspawn have at their disposal Bann Rodilf. While your supply lines are secure how long would it be before the darkness travels beyond the swamps and into your lands?" King Endrin asked as he toyed with his beard.

"How do you mean?" the old bann coughed as he quickly held his hand to his mouth to cover his spittle.

"If given time the darkspawn will find away around this terrain, by any means necessary, and will begin their assault on your lands. This is just another problem your armies will face your grace" the commander of Orzammar said as he gazed at Cailan with a look of piety and concern.

"But how long would that take Prince Duran? We have been at Ostagar for months and have received no word of Darkspawn invasions" Bann Estirlin, the Lady of the Hill, asked as her fingers drummed across the table.

Bann Estirlin appeared more frightful then the rest, her right eye appeared to be twitching non-stop and was very red and irritated. Her evening gown, a dark blue dress laced with Orlais gold and purple, seemed slightly snugged on her and her finger nails were chipped and scratched.

"We would never find out until it's to late milady. As you can tell from the Darkspawn's recent invasion their advances are quick and they are unspoken. Your King was lucky to have arrived here when he did or your lands would have been put to the torch months ago" now the second son of King Endrin was speaking with malice and hate. Aaron could tell this man held nothing but dread for the spawn of darkness.

"Then how do we proceed? No matter what strategy we form the darkspawn will counter it with number, and according to your information if we sit and wait behind our wall we will doom our homes to blight" the bald elf, with a strange tattoo on his face, spoke with disgust and impatience.

"Forgive my tone my lords and ladies but it would appear our task is folly" Aaron almost laughed at the Keeper.

"No matter what we do we kill ourselves and our lands" the bald Dalish Keeper would have continued to vent his frustrations but thankfully Lord Duncan raised his voice and made himself known to the council.

"This war can end and it will but only when we find the Arch-Demon and we," Duncan was suddenly cut off by groans and sounds of disbelief.

"Once again you speak of an Old God that is not here. Lord Duncan how do you even know that there is an Arch-Demon behind this invasion?" Loghain asked as held up his hand and silenced the room.

"It is coming milord, It is a feeling that has been building inside of me for many years. I can hear its call" Duncan was now a mysterious old man who played on imagined and illusion, but a wizards tricks did not fool the council as they each brushed off a false warning.

Aaron was deeply surprised that the Lord Commander did not pursue his case. Perhaps Duncan believes his cause to be a loss or maybe he was simply buying his time. Whatever it was Aaron could not tell or see, but when you are trained in the art of battle you are taught to see many things.

_"Men hold secrets young one, many secrets indeed" the old wizard said._

_"All men love to believe that they can hide these secrets but they are there. Some will hide it behind a smile" the old man smiled, his yellow teeth flashing in the light. _

_"Most men will cough after a lie" the old fool began to cough uncontrollably._

_"It will be your duty to find these lies" the old man laughed as he placed a mirror before Aaron._

_"Now tell me who are you?" the old man asked as Aaron gazed into the mirror._

"I am a liar"Aaron mumbled as he admired his reflection in his whine cup.

"Enough of these talks of evil, your grace we are in dire need of time that we no longer have. Our scouts inform us that the Darkspawn are preparing for another march against the wall. We must respond accordingly" Loghain was applying pressure now.

The old hero wanted something from Cailan but the king looked as if he had nothing to offer to his war council and every noble and king could see that.

"Your grace if I might be so bold to offer my own plan I think I know of a way to end this war in one gallant stroke" Prince Duran spoke up once again and Aaron could see a brilliance glowing in dwarf's face.

"What sort of plan is this Prince Duran?" Cailan asked as the prince snapped his fingers and seconds later three dwarfs walked in to the massive hall. One of the three dwarves was an old man carrying scrolls of parchments in his hands, while the remaining two slowly rolled in an iron box on four wooden wheels.

"Ladies and Gentlemen allow me to introduce my Alchemists, Lord Glavonak and his two sons Voldrik and Dworkin" the father, a broad shoulder man with tan skin, quickly bowed before the court with his voice booming like thunder.

"My lords and ladies it is an honor to be in your presence" the father bent forward so far that he almost dropped his parchments, but for an old man Lord Glavonak was quick to catch his work and place each of parchment by his Prince.

"The honor is ours Lord Glavonak" Cailan said as he looked at the three dwarves, curious to their sudden aperance.

"Prince Duran who are these men?" a mage of the circle asked as he looked at the three dwarves very carefully.

"They are very dear friends of mine and they have helped me end many battles with darkspawn over the years" the prince was suddenly smiling and he was very happy as he walked over and greeted the two brothers with a hug that only a dwarf could give.

It took a moment but together the four dwarves, and their servants, cleared off a portion of the table and unrolled a map of Ostagar for everyone to see.

"Your grace for too long we have stood vigil at Ostagar fighting off minor darkspawn raids, and whether or not this is a blight, this is still a threat to our homes and country" Prince Duran spoke directly to the king.

"But today we will change that. The master works of Glavonak have brought us a new hope against the blights of the darkspawn and new hope for our kingdoms" Prince Duran gracefully stepped aside and allowed the copper skin alchemist to step forward and face the war council.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the court, today I bring our two worlds a new hope" the old dwarf suddenly ordered both of his sons to bring the iron chest closer to the table, and once close the copper skin dwarf unlocked the latch and carefully reached into its contents. Seconds later the old dwarf held in his hand a tiny glass bottle, no bigger than a finger, filled with blue sand.

"A new hope?" laughed Bann Berchan Wulff, son of Gallagher Wulff, as he slammed his mighty palm down upon the table and continued to laugh. Berchan was a mighty man, taller than the average man and built like an ox. Aaron remarked the subtle comparison between Bann Wulff's banner and the man himself.

The Ox of house Wulff stood mighty and strong in the Western Hills and stood the strongest in the king's army. Some say the Wulff's produce the greatest of warriors and the finest archers in all of Ferelden while other's boast of there arrogance.

"What you're holding there dwarf is a bottle of raw lyrium that is all" Wulff laughed while an evil grin appeared on Glavonk's face.

"Is it now?" the old dwarf whispered when he suddenly tossed the bottle across the room. Aaron watched the bottle shatter against the stone but what came next even surprised Duncan and stern face Loghain.

First, there came a sound that reminded Aaron of thunder, followed by a flash that resembled lighting and fear, and finally the entire room shuck as a small tremor rattled the hall.

They were all dazed.

Both men and women, dwarf and elf, were shocked and all appeared in disbelief.

"Gaatlok" the Revered mother mumbled.

"The Black Powder" the Knight-Commander mumbled as whispers and mumbles echoed in the great hall.

'_Gaatlok' _Aaron mumbled to himself as his eyes narrowed and focused on Glavonk's and his two sons. The three dwarfs were all smiling and laughing while the rest of the hall slowly rolled into a panic.

"What magic is this Lord Glavonk's? Since when could a dwarf produce such a powerful spell?" Senior Enchanter Uldred yelled as his tiny black eyes struggled to put fear in the dwarf's heart, but Uldred was weak and tiny man who held no fear.

"That my friend was **Blue Powder**. A creation of my very own" Lord Glavonk suddenly seemed very pleased himself as he dipped his head to the senior enchanter.

"Blue Powder?" Uldred seemed troubled by the name.

"Correct, Blue Powder, a alchemic powder rival to Qunari black powder" the old dwarf said as Aaron watched an older mage, with snowy white hair raise her voice to speak.

"What exactly is this blue powder my lord? We can all, obviously, see what it can do but what is it?" Wynne, senior enchanter of the Circle asked, with the manners the dwarf so rightfully deserved since his arrival.

"My lady, this is a very precious powder made of very dangerous and raw materials. It took my twenty years and three wives to make this power" a sudden chuckle escaped the lord as he spoke ", but I am sorry to say I cannot give you the secret to my greatest creation" Lord Glavonk politely said when suddenly the council rose up in anger.

Each lord and lady was screaming and yelling at the three dwarves demanding to know the secret to the powder and how they could make. Many began to make threats against the dwarves while the mages of the Circle, the Grey Wardens, and the Dalish leaned back and enjoyed the show.

"This is a power that none should have. You bring blasphemy into this land" the Revered Mother screamed.

"Be silent you wench. This is a gift and it should be used as soon as possible!" a Bann shouted.

"Tell us the secret to his weapon. Give it us so we may shield ourselves from our enemies!" Loghain shouted eager for the power of this new weapon.

"Be silent all of you!" the dwarf king shouted while Prince Duran and his eldest brother, Trian Aeducan, struggled to bring order to the council. However, nothing seemed to work as the council dove further and further into chaos. Only the Wardens and the Dalish seemed silent during the ordeal.

"This seems normal" Alistair mocked while Duncan rubbed the temples of skull in hopes of relieving himself of the stressful situation, but nothing came of that either.

Finally, another tiny vile of blue powder was used and it quickly silent the room.

"Enough of this bickering!" King Aeducan yelled as stood by Lord Glavonk with a larger vile of blue powder in his hand.

"King Cailan control your men! I do not have time for this, while we fight amongst ourselves the darkspawn are gathering and I no longer have the tolerance for patients!" King Aeducan shouted as one of Glavonk's sons took the larger powder bottle from the king and eased it into the iron crate it traveled in.

"I can agree" Duncan shouted as he stood.

"This accomplishes nothing. I will not waste my time fighting over something that could potentially help us against our common enemy. Prince Duran quickly tell us your plan!" the Commader of the Grey was neither cruel nor was he angry but his patients had run its end and he could no longer wait.

"It is very simple Lord Commander. I will have a Legion of our finest warriors venture down into the pits and place hundreds of bombs in the old thaig. Then when our battle with the darkspawn begins we will use the powder to collapse the tunnel and burry our enemy beneath the earth" Prince Duran has spoken swiftly and placed a finger on the old map of the underground thaig.

"You call this a plan? This sounds like an attempt at suicide" Loghain laughed.

"You are going to march one thousand of your finest men down into those catacombs and then your going to sacrifice them to the darkspawn, what a grand plan that will be" Urving mocked.

"Prince Duran what made you come up with such a drastic plan?" Cailan asked, shocked to hear such a drastic and terrible idea. The leader of Orzammar's armies suddenly seemed troubled as he let out a heavy sigh and slowly spoke.

"Orzammar's war against the darkspawn has never been an easy one" his voice filled the hall with dread.

"Each day is a battle for survival for my kind, and because of that we dwarves have had to make very drastic decisions" Prince Trian, the eldest Prince, said as he cast his gaze down upon the map of the old forgotten thaig.

"I have used this strategy once before" Aaron followed the princes gaze and looked at the map. There were dozens and circles drawn on the map and its was obvious that those circles were where the bombs would go ", during one of my more desperate raids against the Darkspawn and it gave our armies the victory it need to prepare for the next invasion" Prince Trian said as every man and woman in the hall took note of the scar on the older brother's left cheek and right below his neck.

"Then, you have used this tactic against the darkspawn before and it allowed you to prevail" Wynne said as the elder dwarf prince placed both of his hands on the table and addressed the whole council rather than Wynne alone.

"We know the risks better than most. Our constants wars with the darkspawn have made the dwarves the most resourceful and the most cunning against this blight, and we know how these curs thing and how they fight even better" Prince Tiran then looked over at the Grey Wardens.

"We know even more than our most trusted allies" the prince said as he gestured to the Grey Wardens.

"So I am going to beg the noble lords of council to put there faith in the Orzammar and have faith in our ingenuity and our wit to deal with this foe" Prince Tiran finished by pushing himself away from the table and stood tall.

"This is a lot to take on faith your grace" a young dalish elf said as the eldest prince looked over at the elf who spoke.

"We know very little of such advance technology. How do we know if this is safe?" she appeared to be a child, skiddish and shy, but Aaron suddenly knew who this elf was. While young in appearance, Aaron could feel the power emanating, the elf was a mage. However, she was far too young to be a keeper, perhaps she was a shaman or a First to the Keepers.

"I-I didn't mean no disrespect of course, I-I simply meant" the elving woman was becoming very nervous as Prince Trian anger began to flare in his eyes and his long braided beard.

"What Merrill means your grace is that the surface dwellers know nothing of such advance technology and what harm it might cause" an older elf, with hair as white as hala fur, said as she placed her hands on the Merrill's hand and began to reassure the young woman that she did nothing wrong.

"How can we put our hunters at risk with such a destructive weapon resting beneath their feet? What insurance do our clans have that you will keep them safe?" the Dalish Keeper asked as she released Merrill's hands and folded her hands together and politely bowed her head, waiting for an answer.

"What insult is this?" Prince Bhelen asked stumped by the keeper's question.

"And how dare you speak to your superiors in such a manner! I demand to know your name knife-ear!" Bhelen began to shout and make himself appear the selfish fool again.

"I am Keeper Marethari, of the Sabrae Clan" the keeper was far to polite the dwarf Aaron thought as he watched King Endrin anger slowly flare up again.

"Then tell me keeper why do you not trust us?" a fair question Aaron muttered as he looked back at the four Dalish elves sitting at the table. There were four, obviously, and each had pointed wars and common Dalish armor and robes covering the. The two keepers, Marethari and the tall bald one, gaze at one another while there First remained silent but they were ever dutiful to there leaders.

"Your grace I am Zathrian, Keeper of the Assan Clan" the male Keeper said as he slightly cleared his throat.

"Once again, the Dalish, mean no disrespect to you or your clan but you must understand our fears of this strange devices" Zathrian pointed at the iron box.

"In your metal box is a weapon that is both powerful and mysterious. We know not of its origin or the range of its power," Prince Bhelen would have spoke out against the keeper but his father silent the boy before he could even utter a squeak "but from what you have just told this council is that it can shatter earth and stone. Also, you shall be putting it right beneath our feet" Zathrian paused for a moment to let his statement sink in and no one spoke.

"From the expressions of the shem they can understand our fears as well. I apologize your grace but your solas very well be the doom of our clans" Zathrian explained as Keeper Marethari began to speak.

"Please your grace, you must understand that the elves and the dwarf's are not so different. Both your clan and our clan stand on the edge of greatness and extension. There are so few of the Elvhen left" Zathrian was a hard man when he spoke.

"Your fears we can understand but rest assured we do have a secured plan that will give all races a victory" Prince Duran said as he swiftly dove in and took charge of the conversation.

"Our strategy is simple, once the bombs are placed and our armies stand ready we will send our men beyond the wall and slowly draw our enemy within in the blast radius" his bulky finger drew an invisible line around a region of the map.

"Once there we send out a signal to draw in our armies while our artillery keeps the darkspawn at bay, and once all our soldiers are safely back behind the wall we will light the powder and destroy our enemy" Prince Duran explained as he slammed his palm down upon the map and rattled the table.

"A sound plan if it does have one miner fault" Lohgain mocked.

"What fault is that?" Prince Duran asked.

"The Tyrion means, how do you plan to light this candle and how will those underground know when to light it?" a minor lord asked as a smile quickly crept up Duran's cheeks.

"With clock work" Bhelen answered with a cheeky smile on his face.

"Our engineers have developed something extraordinary, they taken to calling a dial, that counts the hours in a day " Duran said as he pulled out a large metal object that only appeared to be a square piece of metal.

"One twisted and set the dial inside will start to count down until it strikes zero, and the time could be set anywhere between a week" Duran turned a round circle to the right seven times, "or for thirty seconds" Duran turned the dial back seven times and then reset the machine to count down from thirty. In less than half a minute the dial hit its mark and began to make a sound that reminded Aaron of a flock of squawking birds.

"This is your plan then?" Cailan asked as he rubbed his left ear, wondering if the sound would ever leave is head.

"It is your grace, with this I promise you and your council that your enemy will be defeated and that we can all benefit from this" Prince Duran finished while Cailan looked across the table and looked each man and woman in the eye curious as to what they were thinking.

"Then what say you? Do each of you aggress with this plan?" Cailan asked as whispers and murmurs rustled about the table.

"I do believe that his course of war is risky but if done properly and swiftly we could indeed save more lives and resources this way" the bitch of the south said as she took a sip of her drink.

"I second this act I would sooner return home with my sons then stay here and let our crops freeze" Ox of house Wulff said as he beat the palm of his hand against the table as a sign of agreement.

"What of the mages though?" Urving asked and just like that the entire hall rose up in agremment with the Prince Duran's plan, but Aaron could not help but wonder why would anyone try such a drastic plan and it would seem the Lord Commander was reading Aaron's mind.

"I know what you are thinking and the answer is simple. They all desire a swift end" Duncan said as he more talk of stradgey spread across the table.

"The nobles of Ferelden wish to return to there holds and castles and begin there harvest. The Dalish long for the land his grace has promised them and the Vhen Tan." Aaron had heard that phrase before. The Vhen Tan were the "_People of Three"_ an ancient council of the Dalish who unite there clans under the leadership of three Keepers. During the Vhen Tan the Dalish serve together as an army, but something so drastic has never been seen or heard of.

"What of the dwarves then?" Aaron asked.

"They shall receive their aid during there ventures to re-conquer there old Thaigs" Duncan said.

"It cannot be as simple as that" Aaron whispered.

"What do you mean?" Duncan asked.

"I could understand why the Dalish would be eager to aid the king, but the dwarves are of an old culture, which are hell bent on tradition and honor" Aaron said as he looked at the dwarf king and his three sons.

"They want something more and it worries me what they might be receving" Aaron mumbled as his gaze fell upon Loghain, who remained still face and calm during the duration of the council.

Midnight dawned on the council and finally a course of action was met.

"Then we are agreed. The dwarf Legions shall enter the wilds and begin planting the bombs while our remaining forces draw the attention of our enemies long enough for legion to work" Cailan said as stood from his chair and moved waxed dwarf figures across a map, west of the wall, while moving different wax figured towards the wall. There were mabri hounds, a few oxen figures, and a couple dozen more animals.

"We have no idea how long this venture shall take but hopefully the legion shall return within the week, after such time our remaining forces shall have arrived and our battle shall go that muck swifter" the King said as he looked across the table and at Duncan.

"Lord Commander, are you and your Warden's prepared for this venture into the deep?" Cailan asked.

"We are your grace. With our aid the Dwarven Legion should be able to avoid any darkspawn detection" Duncan explained while Alistair rolled his eyes and smiled.

"So how did we get stuck with the suicide job?" he laughed only sounding half serious and half annoyed.

"Then we are ready. We shall prepare for battle and delay the darkspawn horde until your return Lord Commander and Prince Duran. May the Maker smile upon us and give us strength" the king proclaimed while Aaron continued to stare at Loghain.


End file.
